Quicken
by Junsui Kegasu
Summary: Sasori needed to quicken his pace. Deidara needed to quicken the destruction. They met at the end. SasoDei, onesided NaruSasu. Alternate Universe. Discontinued.
1. Quicken the Time

Quicken

By: Junsui Kegasu

A/N: WRITING WITHDRAWLS!

Disclaimer: Don't own Thousand Foot Krutch, although, I will put Naruto on my Christmas list.

* * *

Six months of 'circle time' sure as hell gets repetitive. No one's volunteering, either; they all think the same thing. Well, I don't think anyone here is persistently talkative with the exception of Naruto, but even _he's_ not talking. He's been here half the time I have, but that's still long enough. He knows. 

Actually, this whole thing is pretty god damn pointless. Most of us realize this, I think. Hell, even Gaara, who has only been here a grand-total of a week probably recognizes it. We don't need to ask each other to know; it just happens. Come to think of it, silence is what mostly covers this room every day. You'd think Iruka would give up and find a new job.

That's what the last three counselors have done.

Silently (yet unanimously) we are determined to not 'get better.' If we wanted to get better, we wouldn't be here. This ward is for only the most stubborn patients, after all. No one – and I mean _no one – _cracks. There's a sick sense of pride in that, I guess. You know, the "ha, ha, you're paying for this for nothing" kind of pride.

Well, wait; I take that back. Most of our parental figures wouldn't pay for something like this. If they did, well, we obviously wouldn't have taken such drastic measures to rid ourselves of pain. None of us are shallow; we all had our motives for all the shit we inflicted upon ourselves.

Just because we don't pour our darling little, pained, corrupted hearts out to Iruka and the others doesn't mean we don't talk at all. We know everything we feel necessary to know about each other. I think the only things gone discussed are why Gaara was bruised black and blue when he got here and our conspiracy. Our conspiracy doesn't need words; it's mostly actions: a follow-the-leader type thing. One person starts something, and the rest of us will follow. No one has made a move to break our game of 'silence,' so we stay how we are. We like it like that.

Everyone knows everything about me. Well, they think they do, at least. They know that I am Akasuna Sasori; I'm here for chronic anorexia, (it would be bulimia too, but I sadly possess no gag reflex) I've been here for six months, and this ward was engendered because of me. Over six months, I've gained five pounds and lost ten more in its place. I'm looked up to as a sort of role model, since I've been here for so long. Oh, and I'm seventeen. That might have something to do with it.

After me came Neji, our resident druggie. He's smoked everything I've ever heard of living in the ghetto and then some. On top of that, he drinks, sniffs _everything,_ and injects shit into his arm. Needless to say, less severe wards just wouldn't do, so they stuck him with me. Since we're here for completely unrelated reasons, he doesn't talk much, and we don't share a room (which still confuses me since there was room with me…I'm with Gaara; hence why I know him so much and mention him a lot.) I only know the generals – what he chooses to share with the group.

He lives with his uncle (reason left unexplained) and two cousins, all who apparently hate dislike…hate is such a strong word him, thus drugs. He's seventeen, about two months younger than me, and has been doing drugs since fourteen when he got to high school. Honestly, I'm convinced it's a fucking miracle he hasn't overdosed.

Next on the list: anger management – Naruto. He's pretty much the life of this nuthouse, kind of like the sun. Normally, a case like him would only need a two-day rescue center trip, but this place does that too. How did those two days turn into three months? Well, apparently, Naruto didn't like his counselor and nearly killed him. Straight to the 'code red ward'! (That's what we patients victims call it.) It wouldn't have been this back except that Naruto has the mindset that he is the most misunderstood person in the world. It all mingles with his screwed up temperament and he gets violent upon the poor counselors. He seems with be getting along okay with Iruka, though, so we think he'll be out of here soon.

I knew, at this rate, that it was only a short matter of time before we got someone truly suicidal. Intuitive as I am, that came in the form of Uchiha Sasuke. At fifteen, Sasuke was a vicious, addicted cutter who stopped playing around with the horizontal and diagonal slits and sliced along his vein vertically. He would've succeeded in his morbid mission, but his elder brother, "Perfection" (I _highly_ doubt that's his actual name, but that's what Sasuke chooses to refer to him as) found him and got him sewn together before he lost too much blood. I don't really _mind_ Sasuke, but the boy is so emo, it would make me gag if I had a gag reflex.

For a while, Naruto was the "baby" of our emotionally/mentally-demented family. Though he and Sasuke are fifteen, Naruto just turned so in October. We thought it would remain so, since our most recent addition (Sasuke) was nearly two months ago. And along came Gaara. Gaara was in the medium ward for severe/chronic schizophrenia and multiple personality disorder, but the kid hates places like this and tried suicide Sasuke-style.

How, in such a suicide-proofed place like this? His nails. Yeah, we were all in awe, too. So, the poor kid got stuck here, and he bunks with me. (Finally, I get a roommate…) We call him a kid because he doesn't turn fifteen until January, thus making him our new infant. Productive parents this joint is. Aw, look at the baby. Moving on!

Thinking of birthdays, an interesting thought has crossed my mind: today is the day before Thanksgiving. Upcoming things like this will make me nervous for another six months, since I haven't experienced them yet. Even to the bravest victim, first-time events are frightening. I'm not exaggerating, either. For Halloween, they made up trick-or-treat and exchange stories. (Needless to say, that was fruitless. The candy was laced with some kind of anti-depressant and no one talks.) We all still envy Gaara for missing that.

Other than the dreaded holidays, though, daily routines are depressingly monotonous. For three hours, we have 'circle time,' where no one shares are tension is as thick as butter, then individual counseling for two hours, (personally, I don't say much) lunch, (I'm monitored _very_ closely, but it's gotten nowhere and force-feeding isn't allowed due to the 'peaceful, professional assistance' (PPA), so I still win) personal/peer affiliation time, where they basically lock us in the safest room possible and tell us to socialize. They don't even bind Naruto for everyone's safety; I guess they want the atmosphere to be comforting. This is where we talk, where they can't monitor us. After that, more 'circle time,' then bed. Repeat.

This is why my surprise is understandable when the fire alarm goes off. I'm not the only one; a whole chain of events happens. Neji looks (for once) alert, the shimmering glare leaving his eyes only to reveal their natural color to be no different. (Great, now I owe Gaara money.) Naruto curses rather colorfully, causing Iruka to give him a reprimanding look, Sasuke, who had been balancing on one of the chair's legs, topples to the ground with a curse, as does Gaara (but only because he's skittish…he didn't swear, either.)

Now, _this_ was one of those unexpected, frightening events I mentioned. Never in my eternity of being here had we had a fire drill. I suppose that's because people are more than likely to escape into the free, unmonitored world. Thus, I was pretty sure it couldn't have been a drill.

Since when did we have a pyro?

Very quickly, Iruka groups us up and leads us to the nearest door. This day and its surroundings are particularly unique; the lobby is usually locked to us, and it's where we come to in order to get to the front door. We're led outside and across the street to wait. I think, of us all, I'm the most disoriented. After all, my only surroundings for six months have been white, rounded off walls with furniture in the same fashion, but blandly multicolored.

Even this minute section of reality is mind-blowing, the colors blinding. Neji takes a deep breath when one of those rancid public buses pass, polluting the air with revolting smoke. It just goes to show how the drugs have gotten to his rotted brain. Sasuke is eyeing a jagged shard of glass from a broken bottle, but Iruka's giving him a look. _That_ just goes to show how emo he is.

It's a depressing relief to be out here. A relief because it's so damn _real._ Depressing because we have to go back.

Not to anyone's (well, maybe newbies like Gaara) surprise, there is a fire truck. There's also a thin stream of smoke from the tiny hole in the boys' bathroom. I guess we _do _have a pyro. I'll have to seek him out at lunch. I can tell that Neji and Naruto are thinking the same thing. Sasuke the lovely-desperate emo is heading for that glass while Iruka looks away from him to scold Naruto's "Holy _shit!_" Quickly, he grabs it and stuffs it in his pocket for later, I guess. It's so stupid though; they check him thoroughly twice a day. Even if he nicked his dick, he's screwed.

Gaara appears to be having a conversation with himself. (He has four personalities – Shukaku is violent, Bokaira is morbid, Gaara is a wimp, and Gaa-chan is utterly innocent.) Actually, I'm pretty sure it's Gaa-chan judging by how he's smiling obliviously and ignoring the police sirens. I'd kill for such innocence right now. My knowledge and curiosity as to who got us out of circle time for fifteen minutes are so overwhelming. I try to scan the crowd of victims and counselors for any hints, but I can't find any. There _are_ some reporters though.

Wonderful, now our darling parents know how we're doing. The thought makes me snort. (Sasuke jumps like he's done something wrong. Pathetic.) My parents didn't care. I was never good enough for them, socially, academically, and mostly athletically.

_**get faster train harder lose lose lose he ran he ran**_  
**S T A R V A T I O N  
**i'm stillFATmuch tooFATnever good enoughFAT  
never enough never enough  
_**RUN HARDER!  
**__q u i c k e n . y o u r . p a c e_

My head almost aches when the memories flood like that hurricane back in August. I'm fifteen again. I'm running track again. I'm not the best. I'm not enough, not enough, not enough for them and their athletic standards. But I digress, and gigantically at that. I think it's the hardest thing for me to accept here: OUR PARENTS DIDN'T SEND US OFF IN LOVE. That was my illusion in the beginning. I guess I was really, truly, fundamentally wrong, as always.

As the mob of insanity proceeds back to the building, I'm broken from my thoughts (and I curse myself for sounding like Sasuke) and follow the group in. There's this lingering feeling, though, and I can tell that today is going to be odd. Great. Just. Fucking. Wonderful. I just _love_ strange days. I want to go back to bed.

I figured we'd go back to circle time and 'discuss' what just happened, but oddly, Iruka leads us back to our rooms. When I hear the lock click, (it's like a _prison_ here, I swear) I sigh in confusion. Nothing like this has ever happened before. At least I can have a nap or something, then. The cheap, plastic-stuffed-with-polyester mattress looks inviting, as does the almost-flat pillow.

Sleep won't come, though. My brain is riddled with confusion, questions, ideas, and memories. I give up on it and turn to Gaara. Not to my surprise, the lucky bastard is listening to his music. He's allowed to have it, since it quells the voices in his head along with the other personalities. It's kind of funny, his CD case looks like it belongs to four separate people, which I guess in reality, it does. Judging by the heavy-metal leakage I'm hearing, though, Shukaku is the dominant personality of the moment.

I can't talk with Shukaku; he's way too violent, so I roll back over and try that sleep thing again. This time, I feel my eyes droop, and feel most coherent thoughts slip away, like soap through my fingers. The sleep washes the suds of incoherency away, and for a blissful moment, my mind is perpetually blank. I revel in the nothingness. Then I can revel in nothing at all, or at least, nothing I'll remember. I never dream.

* * *

For some reason, it's an exerting thing when Gaara shakes me awake, two hours later, says my brain. I don't know where I get the numbers, and I never will know; clocks are apparently dangerous. Either way, I feel out of breath when I wake up and can barely sit up to stretch. I'm not sick, just…exhausted. Perhaps it's a late symptom. I was never easily exhausted, no matter how much I exercised. I needed to be the _best…_in everything. 

"It's time to go back to the circle," my roommate informs me grimly. I wait for more; it _is_ Bokaira, after all. "Back to the place of staring at the cracks in the ceiling and wishing they would all conform and make the roof shatter, thus crushing us all and ending the torment."

Yes, I am back in reality. No more blank nothingness; no more bliss. Back to the world of emotion, the world of numbness. Hey, I never said that _I_ wasn't emo.

Gaara has already left the room as I tried to gather my composure, so I swing my legs over the side of the bed and grimace at the cold _thunk_ as they smack into the floor. There's another disadvantage to being tall, the other one that I despise being that it's _mandatory_ that I weigh more. I was depressed as hell to find that Gaara weighed less than me. Everyone else is over me; I took a sense of pride in that.

As we're not allowed to wear shoes in this place, (My foot doesn't even remember what it _feels like_ to be encased in a shoe anymore) it doesn't really matter if I put on socks or not. This place is so immaculate, no one's foot ever gets diseased, not even mine with my low immune system from starvation. When I stand up, I notice that in my sleep, my pants have ridden up (not surprising, given that their at least four inches too big for my waist.) and haven't quite slid back down to reside just-barely-clinging to my hips. I find satisfaction in the pregnant bulge of my anklebone before my pants fall back down to their usual residence, hanging over my toes now.

In this place, I've learned that the less of the problem the counselors can see, the better. I don't have clothing that fits me correctly anyways, at least, not that they would let me bring in here. Drawstrings are considered weapons. The only things we can wear are sweatpants or anything with elastic. No jeans. No shirt displaying profanity. Most importantly, no long sleeves. They want to know you haven't managed to find any danger in their infant-proofed world.

Trudging down the hall silently, I realize that today's schedule was too messed up to be shrugged off. I could try to put up the illusion that I wasn't unnerved, but in a place where they don't officially reveal the schedule to you and there are no clocks anyways, this is one of those breath-stealing blows that you dread. Or those shots you get in your elbow. God, just _thinking _of the sensation there makes me shudder. I'm anorexic, not suicidal. Remember that.

When I make it to circle Hell, the difference blows me away. No one is sitting where they used to. Our original order was me in the dark corner, Sasuke next to me, (he's mad because _I_ have the darkness) Neji next to him by the wall with all of those self-confidence-boosting posters. (he stares at them and makes it look like he's interested when in truth, he's going through silent, painful withdrawal. He hasn't told me, but the way he did drugs, and the way they just took him off like that wasn't exactly fair. You can't blame the guy for spacing out every so often.)

_Bam!_ **No more for you, it's  
**_b a d  
_justkeepsayingthat YOU DON'T NEED IT andtheneverythingwillworkout  
**A D D I C T I O N W I T H D R A W A L**  
q u i c k e n _the _injection

Gaara is next to Neji, in the other corner, not so dark as mine, but still a corner, and he can hide there. No one says anything about _him_ stealing anyone's corner, though, because A) it's kind of close to Iruka, still. (Since Gaara's new, Iruka is still keeping _very_ close watch on him) and B) He's the baby. Still, we have four corners. It's a shame the other two aren't in usage; they give us so much security. Everyone wants to sit in one except for Naruto, because Naruto (as aforementioned) gets along well with our counselor. He doesn't speak at circle, but Iruka's his personal counselor, too, and he talks there.

However, today, I walk in the room to find such a mind-blowing difference, it nearly angers me. _My_ corner, _my_ spot, _my salvation_ (okay, that's a little far…) has been taken. If anything, I would suspect _Sasuke_ of doing it, since he always wants my corner (never Gaara's because it isn't as dark) but it's not Sasuke there, unless Sasuke has gone blonde.

There's a _new kid_ sitting in _my chair._ All the other new kids sat right by Iruka. I don't know if he mandated it or if that's just what they did at first, but obviously, this kid has a different style of thinking. Good for her, except she's in my chair. I want to go up to her and reclaim it, but she looks so…nonchalant sitting there. Basically the American-girl stereotype with long, blonde hair, she puts a different style to _that,_ too. Most blondes (the stereotype) like to have their pretty face exposed to the world, and this one doesn't. The rest of those bleached locks are held up in a tight (it looks painful) high ponytail that resides at the top of her head. From where _I_ grew up, this is the longest hair I've ever seen.

Iruka is too busy talking to Naruto to notice that I haven't taken a seat. Everyone else keeps looking at me, and then looking at the thief. They want to know what I'll do. It's kind of obvious that I really don't like change all that much, so something like this is…well, disastrous for me! I can't blame this girl, though; she's new. How was _she_ supposed to know Akasuna Sasoriowned_ that seat_, unofficially, but still, I have seniority!

With a grudge, I take the seat next to Gaara, which is where this new girl _probably_ should've sat. He gives me a look, but his eyes are always so masked that I can't tell what personality it is until he speaks. Gaara changes at a rapid pace. Technically, he should've been sent here right away. But to do that, it _does_ cost money. People like us, who got moved up from the lower wards because we're stubborn don't require a fee. At least, I doubt we do. God knows my parents, Neji's uncle, Naruto's caretaker, Sasuke's brother, and Gaara's father would pay a thing.

It's kind of weird how I'm the only one who lives with two parents. They can blame the other four's depression/insanity/anger on lack of decent parents, but I have two '_loving_' biological parents who only want the best for me. At least, that's how you're _supposed_ to do it. I actually have two _disappointed_ biological parents who only want me to be the best. And I'm not. No one is, not even them in their perfect world.

I guess I'm somewhat lucky, though. Neji's uncle neglected him; (from what I've heard) Naruto's foster parents just didn't know what to do with his temperament and gave up on him when what he really needed was some love, Sasuke's brother was the me of his family, except that he actually _did_ become the 'best,' and after their parents died, he got on Sasuke's case and tried to turn him into his clone, and from what Gaara (Bokaira – Gaara himself is too reserved to talk about things like this) has told me, his dad needs to be put in jail.

I can't help but wonder what this kid's story is. How are her parents? Why is _she_ here? Was she pushed to perfection? Or did someone hurt her enough to make her opt for some form of self-mutilation? I hope we have personal today. I want to find out about this kid. (I say kid because she looks younger than me.) However, me in my screwed up mind frame wants to skip circle entirely and just go there. Right now.

Before I can dwell on that, Iruka calls our attention to him. We're not bad kids, like we don't misbehave for Iruka, we just don't…participate. And he can't make us. That's another part of the same PPA that can't force-feed me. They can only wait for us to crack under the blinding white surroundings. Thus far, it has gotten nowhere, needless to say.

"I'd like to bring your attention to the fact that we have another person in our group," Iruka told them all. "Deidara, would you care to introduce yourself?" Something about his tone is hopeful. Hope that we'll actually have someone who talks, who will manage to break into our shells and get us to open up too. He wants this girl to _heal us._

Ha, as if _that_ will happen…famous last words.

"You just did it for me, yeah."

Who the hell said that? It couldn't have been… Deidara isn't a girl? Whoa…and I thought _Sasuke_ was feminine…o-kaaay… moving on. He's got one mouth on him, though. Iruka was kind of stupid to ask something like that in a group like this. We don't participate; we're uncooperative. Right there, that boy has just said more than any of us (except Naruto) have dare said in circle. If Iruka's lucky, he gets a grunt of agreement or a 'no,' but no one ever elaborates, so he just gives up.

Sighing in defeat, Iruka puts two fingers to his temple and massages. I guess today has been stressful for him. Well, with everything that happened today… wait… I feel my eyes widen in realization. In my slumber-ridden mind (I'm slow to wake) I hadn't even _considered_ that Deidara just might be the pyro. So _this_ is the person responsible for messing up our schedules…I would growl if I weren't determined not to speak.

And I knew, just knew, that right then, my life was changed forever.

_Quicken the t i m e._

* * *

Yosh. Your ever-so-lovely JK has decided that she has finished her chapter and – ACK – it's six-thirty AM! NO! I have to get to the bus stop…God dammit; you'll get this after school. 

Edit: HA, IT IS NOW AFTER SCHOOL AND -…omfg, now we're going out for dinner! GRR, YOU'LL GET IT AFTER THAT, THEN.

Edit Number Two: Well, your ever-so-lovely JK went to a friend's house to sleep over (waves to Shiranui Genma – I KNOW YOU'RE OUT THERE!) and now, over twenty-four hours after the finished product was typed. Enjoy.


	2. Quicken the Understanding

Quicken

By: Junsui Kegasu

A/N: …I'm thinking of changing my penname to 'Procrastinating Fairy.' (For real this time) Does anyone object?

Disclaimer: I own nada…and sadly, my parents refused to buy me Naruto for Christmas…

* * *

All right, I now have an opinion on this guy. He's snobby, annoying, and reluctant to tell us anything. That's not fair; we even got _Neji_ to open up…and this guy won't. We told him about ourselves, had our own little circle time, and this guy just…shoved us all off. 

"_I don't need to share my art with you, yeah."_

And what's with the 'yeah'? For someone who ends his sentences in such a positive way, he certainly has a negative attitude… he looked almost disgusted with all of us, especially Gaara and I. Why us? Well, we now have a third roommate. Wonderful, isn't it? Shukaku doesn't like him and neither do I, but I guess we're just going to have to deal. But, damn, I just don't feel safe bunking with this kid without knowing why he's here. We suspect he's the pyro, but he won't say a word.

He just _loves_ breaking all of these trends. Over six months, all of us have introduced ourselves to each other, and now, this kid comes in, and all we know is that his name is Deidara. That's rather unnerving. On top of that, he talked during circle. That's just plain _unheard of._ None of us said anything, even on our first day. I think that's why this conspiracy works so well.

But this kid, oh, _this kid…_he just angers me. His attitude just…clashes with mine. I guess I'm not much of a social person, if someone and I clash, hatred blossoms. I don't mind Gaara because we don't contact so much where he could annoy or anger me. This kid, though…I honestly don't know what's wrong with him. I'm almost afraid to be bunking with him. What if he decides to kill me in my sleep?

Ha, ha, that's funny. Being killed in a _shrink…_impossible, truly impossible. Especially since I'm with Gaara, one of the few victims to be known to attempt and nearly succeed in suicide in this place, our room is _especially_ devoid of sharp objects, and his nails have been buffed from being lethal to not even allowing him to scratch an itch or anything like that. Nails are important, you know… He told me that they would've removed them, but his father wasn't willing to pay the bill.

I'm sure that Naruto, Neji, and Sasuke's room is the same way except I'm pretty sure that all of the furniture is firmly rooted to the floor so that Naruto can't throw anything at anyone. It isn't hard to make the room free of inhalants – there's no vents, windows, or anything that could give off fumes in there. It's a good thing none of them are claustrophobic; that really wouldn't be good.

I'm personally not claustrophobic, but I like looking out the window, even if my vision of the outside world is made intangible, taunting me with bars that obscure my view of freedom. Our room has a good view, too. It's in the back, so when you look out it's just a forest, and a beautiful one at that. Whenever my parents' expectations would really overflow the basin of my self-control, I would always run to the forest that was near our house. I knew that place better than I knew the Christian school I attended since kindergarten.

It's kind of ironic how people who attend places like that end up being the least religious. After a while, the praises of God wore off, and now, I can't say I believe in Him anymore. I used to, I really did, but twelve years of the same prayers don't make it sink into your soul more. Mom and Dad seemed to think so; they were adamant Christians. So were the parents of my best friend, Kisame. He doesn't dread 'bible study' in the sanctuary like I do, though. He's more neutral than Atheist.

My thoughts are snipped like scissors cutting a string when there's a voice ringing out at circle, _again._ It's _him_ again, too: Deidara. I guess he really doesn't care, or he wants to create the illusion that he's better to get out of here. It doesn't work like that, though, and he'll soon learn. _They know._ They always know. It's horrible, but I can admit that some of the people have talent here. They've either been working with people like us for a while, or they just have intuition.

I almost want to tell him that, so he can just stop trying. After all, he's going to realize it anyways, there's no danger in telling him early. I guess I'll do that when we go to bed. I have to scowl in remembrance. I originally had the bottom bunk of the bunk bed, because the darkness and similarity to a cave made me feel secure. Gaara doesn't like heights much, so he got the single bed next to it. (It hardly matters as he has insomnia) Thus, Deidara is in the bed above mine. Wonderful.

I guess today just really isn't my day. It's one of those days I wish we had a clock in here, so I knew what time I could fall asleep. Gaara says that sleep scares him, because he can't control himself, but sleep is my escape. Since I weigh so little and refuse to gain energy by eating, I need a lot of sleep to keep me going. They give us a pretty long time, so that's fine with me. One of the few perks of a shrink.

My wandering mind drifts (again) to Deidara: how does _he_ sleep? I want to think that I'm only asking myself because he'll be sleeping above me, but I've always been too serious to live by lies. I'm actually concerned, and that's kind of alarming for me. I don't like getting attached to people who I know are going to leave. I look at Gaara as my little brother, sometimes, but we're never close enough to that I'm going to really miss him when he leaves.

Perhaps I'm just tired. Exhaustion can do things to your brain. Judging by the sliver of sky I can see from the barred, curtained window across the room, circle should end very soon. I'm glad for that. With the tension stew this evening is a strong sense of embarrassment _for_ Deidara. Obviously _he_ doesn't feel the same way. Perhaps he's immune, but I think he's just in denial.

Finally, Iruka tells us we can leave. Thank _god, _I was almost bored to tears. Ha, ha, that's funny. I haven't cried in over six months. This place saps up your tears like lifeblood and gives you an excuse to stay longer. Neji cried once or twice, but that was withdrawal. Those morons were stupid to not let him slowly get himself off of it. It's only logical. Naruto never cried, it's like his tears come in the form of fists, and Sasuke claims that he cried through his arm. Gaa-chan and Bokaira (sometimes) cry, but not _Gaara._ I wonder if Deidara cries…

I think I'm just going to blame all of this concern on the fact that he hasn't told us anything. It would make sense, after all. Everyone else was willing (even if they were reluctant at first) to share their tale, so we were comfortable with them immediately. (Well, Neji was somewhat uneasy when he found out Naruto was his room mate, but then he found out that the furniture was immobile, so he gradually relaxed.) It's just my luck to be stuck with the actual nutcase, too, isn't it?

This isn't working out for _anyone._ Deidara is disgusted with Gaara's actual insanity and my weight, Gaara's intimidated by that look, and I'm pissed off. I wonder if Iruka has some ulterior motive with this. I'd talk to him about it if I _ever_ talked to him. I hardly talk to my actual counselor, either, so I can't tell her. She's a nice lady, really, and since she has medical experience tries to scare me with the possibility of my death in order to get me to gain weight, but I can't tell her.

Sometimes, the weight of this conspiracy consumes me.

Now we're in front of our room. Neji, Naruto, and Sasuke have continued down the hall to theirs. I guess I can call this 'judgment hour.' Gaara has already entered, leaning over the bed to grab his CD player and shove on the earphones. He must've noticed the tension worse than I have; Gaara's really susceptive to things like that, and they unnerve him.

"They said no electronics, yeah."

I can't be mad at him for _this_ question, it's kind of inevitable. However, I'm not going to answer, and Gaara can't hear him. The leakage this time I recognize as Slow Bleed by Thousand Foot Krutch, so it's either Gaara or Bokaira. Their music tastes are very similar. Hoping Deidara will just shrug it off I climb into my sanctuary and start preparing myself for sleep.

"Hey, kid, yeah!"

I frown; this can't be good. He's raising his voice. If Gaara (I think it's him, and not Bokaira) sees his anger, he'll immediately shrivel back and possibly panic. Or at least, that's my assumption. No one has ever raised his or her voice to him like this before. It's not _his_ fault he can't hear Deidara. He doesn't look like he's aware of much, just his music and his serenity. If only I had an escape like that…

SMACK!

Without even realizing they were closed, my eyes shoot open. Did what I _think_ just happened happen? Sure enough, as I look over to the bed next to me, Deidara's closer to Gaara now, and it looks like he hit his shoulder. The noise isn't as loud as how I heard it because my hearing is acute and instinct has me on edge all the time, but still. He _hit him._ This kid…the anger is bubbling inside me, now.

"You're not supposed to have that, yeah."

"S-sorry…"

Who is _he_ to tell Gaara what he can and can't do? He's gone and scared him! At this point, I have to intervene. I can hear Scared playing from his headphones, now. All he did was take them off to answer Deidara.

"He's allowed to. Remember, he's _insane._" I put a lot of emphasis on the word he used to describe the boy. I see Gaara flinch at the term, and I feel a little bad, but Deidara is really pissing me off.

"I didn't know they had loopholes in _shrinks,_ yeah," he counters smoothly. "Whatever. Such a device might amuse me, yeah."

"It's not yours! You can't touch it!" I tell him.

"I never said I would, yeah."

I raised my voice to him. I _never_ raise my voice in this place, especially not in Gaara's presence. He's replaced his headphones hesitantly, trying to block out our argument. This is _not_ going to work out.

"Have you ever watched a CD player explode, yeah?"

Well, now the lifelong question has been answered: Deidara _is_ the pyro. And he's planning on blowing up Gaara's CD player. That's so…stupid it's almost amusing. For some reason, a little of the discomfort in my chest has subsided now that I know why he's here. I can imagine it, now: he probably was taken in for arson or something stupid. I choose not to reply to him and instead get back into bed, muttering that he should get some sleep.

It's a while before he moves and turns off the lights. That's the first good thing he's done so far; both Gaara and I like the dark. When he climbs into his bunk, he mutters something almost intelligible. Not for the first time in seventeen years, I curse my hearing, because I hear it.

"No one ever appreciates my art, yeah…" 

He calls burning things his art. Sasuke calls slicing his arm open in intricate patterns his art. Gaara's music is his art. Neji's designs of puncture wounds and his addiction-induced inspirations are his art. I don't have an art, and I feel (childishly, uncharacteristically, abnormally) left out. Art is escape, they say. My escape was running, but I wasn't good enough at it.

I've had time to think about everyone else's arts, and Deidara's perplexes me. I can see Sasuke's morbid fascination of 'beautifying' his arm, but nothing past that point of destruction. Deidara, though, finds beauty in something burning down, being destroyed. He likes the feeling of things built over years with pure determination, blood, sweat, and tears crashing down at his feet. I don't understand it.

**BAM! _BOOM! _BANG!  
**_explosions_**crackle**_through_**spit**_the_**spark**_air  
_Feel the _h e a t w a v e.  
_Dance, flames, Dance!  
burnittotheground  
Quicken the **destruction**

* * *

When I wake up on an average morning, usually Gaara has his music going or he's in the bathroom, showering. Other than the leakage or the spray of water hitting tile, it's dead quiet. This describes an _average_ morning. However, Thanksgiving morning isn't normal in any way shape or form. No, I wake up this morning to (in addition to the normality of Gaara showering) a lovely sight of my nude bunkmate. 

He really _does_ have to be different, doesn't he?

Most people would be cursed with a modesty that required them to duck back under the covers, or at least turn away and make an interesting noise. However, I am not most people (by a long, long shot) so I find myself _staring._ I don't know if it's because I'm half awake or not, but it's clichéd, and I can't find myself doing a damn thing about it.

Of course, to add to the utter _irony_ of it all, he happens to glance behind him, only to see _me_ staring at _his_ ass. I want someone to pinch me and tell me it's a dream, or someone to take a big, pink eraser and efface all of this from history, but this is reality. This is actually happening. The things I pictured in movies and could laugh at years back are now _my humiliation._ This week is _so_ not my week.

Deidara's not your average person, either. Most people would growl and punch the person staring, or squeak, blush, and cover themselves immediately. He _smirks._ I have no clue what that means, truth be told. The thought that he could be crushing on me doesn't even cross my mind. I just know that he's stranger than me, and one thought crosses my vacant mind:

'_He's hot.'_

What on earth is _wrong_ with me?

On all holidays, there's a visiting day. I don't care, since my parents never visit, but Gaa-chan's excited because his brother comes, and Deidara seems happy, too. Sasuke's brother comes, but he doesn't like him, so it makes him moody. Neji's uncle can't spare a day from work to visit his nephew, so he doesn't care. Naruto was living with a foster family, and they pretty much just got rid of him here.

For Gaara's (and Deidara's, I find myself admitting) sake, I try to be somewhat cheerful, but I'm still kind of miffed that my parents aren't coming. It's foolish, as I've been here for a few holidays, but I want them to come. I want them to see that I can make them proud, as babyish as it sounds. I just want their affection; is that really so hard?

Apparently so, and I have no one to vent it to. Well, wait, whom am I kidding? I have a whole nuthouse full of people to vent to. I just don't trust anyone enough. Gaara's really lucky; he doesn't remember what his personalities do, so he can just go on and do whatever. Deidara will probably vent to the counselors, like a good little boy, and try to get out of here ASAP. Which reminds me, I never told him…

I want to tell him, but at the same time, it's almost like that'd be popping his bubble. I'm just not that mean. Plus, judging by his personality, I think he would just shove it aside like I was lying. There's no point in wasting my voice on that, so I suppose he'll have to learn for himself. That's what I did, after all. I've tried every method to get out of here and then some. I somehow doubt he cares about that, though. He's so arrogant, so self-centered, so stuck up, so beautiful.

Whoa, Sasori! What's going on here? We never defied our religion _that_ much! This is beginning to freak me out. Maybe it's because he's so feminine and I saw him naked this morning, I still immediately associate him with a girl. That's it; yeah…I'm not gay. I can't be gay, that's unacceptable to 'them,' and they need not be any more disappointed in me. I really wish they had come.

Stupid. I'm being stupid. They haven't managed to break away from their hectic schedules to see their only child once in six months. I'm not going to count on them coming now. As a matter of fact, I'm going to numb myself to it, like I do from hunger. Still, Deidara is chatting animatedly with a girl (I'm sure this time; her clothing is somewhat clingy.) and looking much happier than I'm sure he'll be here, and Gaara's always ecstatic to see his brother.

I'm going to guess that the girl is Deidara's sister. I've never had an older sibling, or any younger siblings either. I'm glad for that, though, I don't wish the stress of perfection on anyone. Sasuke always whines about his sibling and Neji's cousins can be considered his siblings. He doesn't like them much. Gaara idolizes his older brother, and I think he mentioned that he had a sister once or twice.Naruto is happy to chat with Iruka, and I think he might have found his new foster parent. Well, it's good that at least _some_ of us are happy…most of us, actually.

At least, we act like it.

Because of my hearing, I catch a couple phrases of the conversation with Gaara and his brother. Some of them are kind of sad, others are kind of cute, but most are just normal. They seem to be talking about how things are at home (How's Dad? Is Temari okay?) but there's this mysterious 'he' thrown into a couple spots. Gaara hasn't revealed this side of himself, so I'm curious. I refuse to push him. Bokaira will probably tell me anyways.

Since Deidara is so enigmatic, I'm actually _trying_ to listen in on this conversation. They're being really discreet, but I think I caught something about "Mom," "Dad," "Coming," and "Leaving." What I can piece together using that bit of information and Deidara's facial expressions is that his parents aren't coming and he's not leaving for a while. Well, thank you sister person. Now I don't have to pop the bubble.

* * *

This is an interesting perk of a holiday: the visitors get to stay for our Thanksgiving feast. I hate Thanksgiving, possibly even worse than Christmas. At Christmas, Mom and Dad always expected me to be a perfect angel, a good Christian, a perfect son. Thanksgiving calls for possibly something worse: me eating…a lot. It's different on a regular day. On a regular day, I can be defiant all I want. However, even my conscience has a limit to tension. 

Sasuke doesn't like the fact that we have visitors. He's glaring at Kankurou (Gaara's brother) and Mieko (Deidara's sister) like they're vermin. Gaara keeps thinking that he's glaring at him and shrinking, causing Kankurou to worry, and Deidara's sister is glaring _back_ at Sasuke, making him sulk. This is our messed up home. I want to leave, very soon.

On the bright side of which I've just discovered, (via Deidara's sister) once I'm eighteen, I'm out of here. It turns out Deidara's seventeen, too. He doesn't look it, but he is. I don't know when his birthday is, but all I know is that if it's November 24th, and my birthday is March 3rd, I'm only here for approximately three months. That's a gleeful thought. Now I have something to look forward to.

The scrape of spoons against plastic plates (We're not trusted with forks, much less knives. Isn't that sad?) mixes with the strong aroma of almost-cold turkey (hot foods are equivalent to weapons) and reminds me of all those Thanksgivings where I was the baby, the little kid, the one to be proud of. Now the holiday makes me sick, and it's not just the strong scent of food in the air.

Mieko keeps randomly looking onto my plate, noting that my turkey (probably stone-cold) has only been nibbled at and my stuffing and potatoes haven't been touched. Iruka was somewhat pleased with that, though he kept trying to get me (all of us, actually) to eat the cranberry sauce. I think it's laced with anti-depressants. They like to do that to us.

Naruto took the cranberry sauce. Neji and I hold our breath, exchanging nervous glances. No one has ever taken anything recommended to him or her by the counselors since we've always been paranoid it's spiked with something. When he takes a bite, we hold our breath. Time goes in slow motion. And then, it's over. He's not dying, he's not painfully happy.

How paranoid have we been this whole time?

_Quicken the u n d e r s t a n d i n g_

* * *

Another chapter done! On the day with a snow delay! Wh00t! (attempts to get her internet to work) 

Edit about...eh...five hours later: Internet working again! And dude, I just had the strangest food of my existence. It looks like clam sauce. It smells like clam sauce. But it tastes like very mild chili. wtf?


	3. Quicken the Beginning

Quicken

By: Junsui Kegasu

A/N: Decided not to change my pen name. I'm too famous as "JK."

Disclaimer: Own nothing…I wonder if there's still a chance of me getting Naruto for Christmas…

* * *

December is supposed to be a cheery month, right? At least, I think it's December. Thanksgiving was nearly a week ago, so it should be about the first of December. Yet another reason why I wish we had clocks or at least some form of information, delineated in the cynical words of Akasuna Sasori. Yes, yes, cheer for me. 

One thing I really don't understand about this place is that they put you here, dragging you out of school, and then they give you school work. That doesn't sound so bad, but the thing is that when you're here for such an extended period of time, and over the summer, while we're at it, you're not going to know pre-calculus. If Mom and Dad were here, they'd be angry that it wasn't calculus. I kind of wish it was Algebra 1, like what Gaara has.

Even Deidara has it easy; he has Algebra 2. Sasuke's over there complaining about his Geometry, and Neji too, since he's really bad with math and he always skipped class to do drugs. Why is it that I have pre-calc and I'm not even in school anymore? I think Mom and Dad probably removed me…well, on second thought, probably not. Academically, I can almost appease them. Right now, they're probably basking in the glory that is scholarships coming in.

I wish I had that ability that people talk about in books. You know, the one where people can burn holes into things with their glare. Okay, I know it's metaphorical, but still. I would be doing that to my pre-calc right now. Unfortunately, I am no more talented than the average person, so I must deal with the wonders of equations and graphs.

Normally, I'm on edge enough where if someone comes up behind me, no matter how silent (I learned that _very quickly_ with counselors and am glad the instinct remained intact for Gaara. That kid has a stealth inclination) they are, I can sense them before they get within a foot of me. However, right now, I'm so concentrated on my work that Deidara's voice scares the living _shit_ out of me.

"Hey, can you help me with this, yeah?"

I look over, pretending to be disinterested, but actually, I could use a break from the horrors of cryptic codes I don't understand. Algebra 2 was easy enough when I had it in previous years, and I'm a fair teacher. Putting these three together, I could easily help him, but as humiliating as being here and being a failure is, I _am_ still a male. And males have pride.

One would think that after the incident last night, one would learn that you do not ignore Deidara. However, my mind thinks in logical terms and finds variables that could have induced that: Gaara is a ton smaller and easier to pick on than I. We are no longer in the private safety of our room; we are in public and being watched by Kakashi, another one of the counselors. He may look inattentive, but let me assure you, as soon as the ingredients for Disaster are set up, he is right on the scene.

My logic? Ignore him. I hate him. It'll be fine.

Well, I didn't get a ninety-four-percent "A" in logic for nothing.

"Hey, I asked a question, yeah."

Just keep ignoring him, Sasori. It will all turn out fine. You're not like Gaara. You're scrawny, but you emit a completely different aura. Yeah, right. That's funny. Good job, Sasori, your mind is slipping again. I go back to pre-calc, attempting to find the solution. Simplify the equation…how to simplify this though? I'm stuck with a blonde who likes burning things. I have a high tolerance for insanity, (Look who my _other_ bunkmate is) but he's just…just…it's his personality.

I shake my head, attempting to ignore the whining that is Deidara. It's not working, and I can't focus. He isn't going to stop until I help him with his damned Algebra 2, and why the hell isn't Kakashi shushing him? I look up to discover why, perhaps give him a dirty look for his lack of response to the harsh whispers, but he's _gone._ On a normal day, I would be relieved without his eye (he covers one. No clue why. I don't talk to counselors) digging into my back, but of course, since today is the only day I would have appreciated his presence, he isn't here.

Karma really sucks. I'm not quite sure what I did, either. Perhaps it was I not getting a one-hundred-percent in logic. Either way, he won't just _shut up._ I can feel the elastic limit starting to separate, feeling the tiniest bonds of self-control snap in half and curl without anything to keep them straight.

"What about this concept, yeah? This doesn't look familiar, yeah…"

I grit my teeth, trying not to let it look like I'm doing so. Again with my mind on those powers, I now wish I had mind control so I could make him shut up. I have work I need to do. I have work I need to _perfect._ He has his work, and he can get a C-average if he wants, but _I need to be the best. _I know that if my counselor knew what I was thinking, I'd be in for a very long lecture centering on how perfection is merely an illusion, and since it's an illusion, technically, it doesn't exist. Well, this is _my world,_ and in _my world,_ perfection exists and I will achieve it.

"You didn't ignore me thatone night, yeah."

I think he's purposely trying to instigate me. He's one of those sick people who like getting people angry enough to yell, it seems. Well then, I have more control than that. There's the pride factor, the respect factor, and the consideration factor tied into this. The pride factor is I not wanting to give him the satisfaction of my visible anger. Oh, and Sasuke would be amused by it, too. He doesn't like me because I have seniority. The respect factor is for everybody doing their arithmetic; I don't want to disturb them. The consideration factor is mostly for Gaara, since I know he doesn't like yelling, but no one really likes to watch an argument unless it involves fists. I won't let it get that far.

"And you were hardly ignoring me that morning, yeah."

"Shut up."

I don't know when I lost my will there, but I muttered it quiet enough so only he could hear. No one needs to know of what happened that morning. I wasn't even _aroused_ by it; I just couldn't stop staring! Why is he poking fun? I realize that even my quiet remark has satisfied him and give myself a very hard mental kick. I hate him.

I don't hate a lot of people. Actually, I really don't hate _anyone_ except Deidara. I really hope that now that he's satisfied, he'll leave me alone, but I can feel his eye burn into my pre-calc, and for once in a pretty long while, I'm really uncomfortable with it. Slamming my crayon onto the floor, I stand up quickly and leave. Perhaps I'll take refuge in the bathroom.

I'm half way there before I realize I can't even be alone _there_ because I'm here for an eating disorder. I'm not allowed back into my room; it's locked for now, and there's really nowhere to hide. I just keep walking. If I get stopped, I'll turn back around and head back to what was _supposed _to be evening circle but is now study-time, if you could call it that.

Sure enough, as I near a hallway that leads to the medium ward, a nurse with long, curly brown hair and red eyes stops me and tells me to go back to wherever I came from. I think now I'm calm enough where I can go back there and keep control. Keeping control is one of my few talents; I'd hate to be even more of a disappointment. I clear my mind as I walk, just so I'll be even more tranquil.

The room isn't entirely as I left it before. Sasuke has taken control of my corner (which I should've expected) and Gaara's frowning at him, as if to reprimand him, but deciding not to speak. Kakashi is back, too. He raises a silver eyebrow, but I say nothing to use as an excuse and pick up my paper and move to the far side of the room, away from everyone else. Thankfully, our supervisor says nothing and I continue trying to figure out the cryptic code.

* * *

I wonder if insomnia is contagious. Gaara seems to have worn off on me, because I'm not asleep, and I wish I were, because I need energy badly. Unfortunately, they managed to get Gaara with some medicine, so he's out like a light. It's bad since they did it kind of against his will, and he's afraid of sleep, but it's good at the same time, because he needs the sleep. 

I swore to myself when I first got here, I wouldn't grow too attached to anyone I met. Things have most definitely changed, though, and Gaara's like my little brother, and I _hate _Deidara. Maybe I was better off without a roommate. Above me, I hear the mattress creak and jump in surprise. I know for a fact that it only does that if someone sits up, which means _he's_ awake, too.

Quickly, I try to feign sleep. I don't know why, but the compulsion to avoid him is overpowering right now. My brain finds no reason to disagree with the gut feeling, so I turn on my side and curl up, squeezing my eyes shut. I feel like a little kid hiding from the dark, but that's okay, because it's so dark that no one can tell. I hear him descend the ladder, but unless he has a stealth inclination, too, then he's standing right there.

I really hope it's the stealth inclination.

"I know you're awake, yeah."

Crap. That just blows everything. Well, whatever, there's no point in avoiding him if he's just going to prod at me with words. Two experiences have taught me that it's a good idea to just respond.

"Your point being…?"

I don't even turn around, but maybe I should, because even though I whispered, I'm facing Gaara and he kind of twitched at my words, like he would wake up. Well, as long as he's unaware that he's sleeping, I'd rather not disrupt it, so begrudgingly, I turn to face him, avoiding eye contact. My eyes are my weakness, and I really don't need him reading me like a book.

"What was with you earlier, yeah?"

Oh, that. "I needed to use the restroom," I lie smoothly. Lying is another talent, but one that _they_ look down upon, since it's against God.

"Why so violently, then, yeah?" He must have a talent in _reading through_ lies, then, because he knows. It's all over his voice.

"Why do you keep bothering me?" I scold and belittle myself mentally when I can hear the annoyance laced in my voice dripping onto his ears.

"Because you're amusing to poke fun at, yeah. If I can't _burn_ things, yeah, I might as well instigate. Plus, the way your eyes light up whenever I _get to you_ almost satisfies the urge, yeah."

So he's using me for therapy. Deep inside, I feel his admittance strike a chord in my chest, but I pretend that it's the position I'm laying in. I'll confront it later. I feel a slight wave of jealousy come up just enough for me to acknowledge it. Why is it that _he_ can find some type of satisfaction for his addiction while no one else can? Sasuke got caught with his piece of glass and now their room is wired heavily so they can spy on him. Neji breaks down because of withdrawal, Naruto punches walls (and goes through the same thing that Sasuke does, so it's pretty much just as bad) and if Gaara is caught conversing, they bombard him. Why is _he_ special?

"You don't get it, yeah, do you?" he continues, annoyance dripping off his voice and sounding much like mine. I wonder if he's doing it just to irk me.

"No, I really don't," I find myself saying, sitting up a little in bed so I can face him. My heart is pounding and I don't know why. Perhaps it's because I sat up too quickly; I don't know. There is a silence that fills the air, like he's hesitating to tell me something. Is it that important?

"I like you, yeah." It's only three words (four counting the annoying little interjection he always adds), but suddenly, my heart skips a beat and it sounds like it's following a different rhythm from what I'm used to. It's a rare occasion in my life that I don't know how to react. I never thought twice about sexuality; I always assumed I was straight because homosexuality was evil. But what's evil and good anymore, anyways?

I don't know how Deidara takes my silence (_rejection,disbelief,loathing,surprise!_) but before I need to answer (thankfully) he tells me with a note of sorrow staining his voice to think it over. I really don't know _what_ to think, but I'm certain now that I won't be able to get back to sleep to save my life. One would think that provides a lot of time to figure out what to think about, but I really just want to hit the pause button and go into some form of a coma.

* * *

The next day at breakfast, I join Gaara first. I didn't sleep all night, and I'm so drained of energy (not to mention my appetite isn't suppressed at all) that I almost consider cramming every bit of cereal down my throat. I have control, so instead I surprise the cafeteria monitor by grabbing a bowl of Lucky Charms and picking at it. 

"Wh-why are you up so early?" he asks, kind of shy. I'm not sure if it's Gaara or Gaa-chan, yet. Both of them have an occasional stutter.

"I had some trouble sleeping last night. There's no reason for me to stay in bed," I tell him with a voice gentler than what I used with Deidara last night. Thinking of the blonde makes that chord in my chest vibrate again, and I swallow. I still don't want to think about it. He said he'd give me time to _think,_ but what I need is time to prepare myself to think about it.

"I see. Is Lucky Charms your favorite cereal?" he asks, voice tinted with innocence and just a barely-detectable hint of eagerness. Gaa-chan is possibly my favorite and most hated of Gaara's personalities. I like how he never asks annoying questions like this and how he can even get Naruto to stop being angry, but at the same time, I envy his innocence and his ignorance to reality.

"Yeah, sure," I tell him, when in truth I hate cereal in general. However, it's the only thing they'll serve to us with plastic spoons so soft they bend under the weight of a mere spoonful, but don't break.

"I like the marshmallows," he continues, stirring soggy remnants around and searching for a colorful, melting blob of marshmallow. "They always seem so happy."

I think he's fading from Gaa-chan to Bokaira, but I'm not sure, and he ends the conversation there. It's not like I would really be able to respond anyways; Deidara has just walked in. My heart skips another beat and the rhythm distorts again, my spoon dropping into the mostly-full bowl. I can't confront him yet. I still haven't prepared myself to think. Avoiding his gaze, I stir around the cereal, creating a legitimate excuse to stop eating it. Even when I liked cereal, I couldn't stand it when it got soggy.

To my surprise, Deidara sits at the far end of the table, watching me with an eye brimming with curiosity, bright enough to penetrate the air ridden with the vomit-inducing odor of dish soap mixing with whatever they've started concocting for lunch and through my invisible bubble, making me uncomfortable. I hate it, but I won't storm away like yesterday. There was something in those words last night…something I can't place, but something that's somehow significant.

My suspicions that Gaa-chan had become Bokaira are quickly denied as the boy moves his breakfast over to chat animatedly with (to) the older teen, going on about Lucky Charms, marshmallows, and cereal in general. From what I can hear, Deidara is somewhat perturbed by Gaara. He doesn't know him quite well enough to identify the personalities yet, but he will. It only took us a couple days. It's actually not as difficult as one would think.

Once everyone else joins us, I know that Deidara wouldn't think of talking to me. I can really thank Gaara for that; he kept him occupied. I'm almost prepared to think, I believe. After breakfast is circle, so I know that then, I'll have enough _time_ to end the preparation and begin the actual process, but I don't know yet. I'll stay in breakfast as long as anyone would allow. Normally, I'd still be in bed. I go straight from there to the commons (breakfast is optional because a lot of people here get sick if they eat when they first wake up. I know Naruto does.)

When the monitors tell us to get out of there, Naruto approaches me. He was probably really bored, since he doesn't eat breakfast. While he doesn't have insomnia like Gaara (and recently, _me_) he's an early riser, and he sees no point in staying in bed.

"Hey, Sasori, I have a question."

"Yeah?" I doubt I'll be able to provide a good answer, since Naruto's questions (when he asks them) are really contemplative about life. I can't really tell him much about that, since everyone's views are different, and honestly, I don't think he'd appreciate mine.

"Have you ever been in love?" he asks. I feel my stomach do an interesting flipping motion and suddenly hate myself for eating; if I throw up (even if it was honestly unintentional) they'll freak out over me. I've never been 'freaked out' over anything like Sasuke, Naruto, and even Gaara have. I guess my time of preparation is up and I need to confront this.

"I really don't know," I say truthfully. "I don't know if I've even had a crush on anyone before."

"Oh…" He sounds dismayed. "Well, thanks…I guess."

I want to pressure it, to ask him why he would ask such an absurd question, and yell at him for ending the blissful preparation process, which meant I didn't have to think about it for another minute. However, I'm not stupid; Naruto is dangerous.

"It's just so…_frustrating_!" he adds, punching the palm of his left hand with his right. "But I guess that's love, even though you wouldn't know that."

I don't know what to say to that. Naruto is beginning to become angered, and I know better than to provoke that further. I don't know the boy well enough where I could know what to say that would calm him down, but the only one who can do that is (obliviously) Gaa-chan, and he's still blabbering to Deidara about cereal. I kind of feel bad for Naruto, though. While I'm on the receiving end of a crush, I suppose that being on the other side would be just as painful, and all he knows how to do is get rid of the confusion through violence, which is what got him here.

WHAT _did_ YOU _just_ SAY _to _ME  
**!bitch come and say it to my face again bitch!  
**S**L**_A_M! **B**_A_M! **P**_O_W! **C**_R_AC**K** BR**E**_A_K!  
i'llkillyou.i'llkillyou.i'llkillyou.i'llkillyou  
_**quicken the violence**_

* * *

Circle is, as I predicted, a good time for me to confront all of this. I don't really know what I am yet, and once I really looked hard, I found I didn't mind Deidara's confession. I wasn't as disgusted as I should've been, considering I hate him. Someone once told me that the line between love and hatred was a thin one. Well, right now, I think I'm treading it. 

I know Deidara wants my answer. He's looking in my direction constantly, eyes shining with that same curiosity, desperation, and longing that they shone with at breakfast. Through three hours, I've come to a conclusion: I guess I can give this a shot. I've never been in a relationship before, so I don't know what to expect, and I don't know if Deidara knows what to expect, but I'm going with a gut feeling.

The unnerving thing is that yesterday, my gut feeling towards him was hatred. Could I possibly be developing multiple personality disorder? It's doubtful, since I remember what I was feeling and Gaara never remembers. I'm almost sad for him right now, but he's changed from Gaa-chan to Bokaira upon entering circle, so I guess he already doesn't remember earlier.

When, finally, the torment ends, Deidara makes a beeline for me, the look never leaving his eyes. I fumble with how to say what I want to say; I've never been good with words. I really hope he doesn't take my silence for anything. It's so stupid, I want to hate him, but there's that stupid thin line, and it keeps crossing over. I'm not sure I want to love him, but I certainly _don't_ hate him, so the next best thing is that line.

"I…I'll give it a chance," I say finally, bruising my mental shins more with kicks, trying to cure the stammer. "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do, or what I'm even supposed to feel, but hell, obviously, my gut has stopped hating you."

He snorts, and I'm slightly wounded that he's laughing at me. "Yeah, you know, I hated you too, yeah. You're so arrogant sometimes, yeah."

Well, I suppose it's good to know some of my faults. "…Thanks. Arrogance turns you on?"

He laughs a little more, but then we're in front of his counselor's door, so he leaves. I'm so confused right now. I want to hate him; I don't even want to be on the line, but I am. He wants to hate me, but he can't. I don't know what any of this is about, but sure, I'll give it a shot. How far can this possibly go?

More famous last words.

_Quicken the b e g i n n i n g_

* * *

MERRY CHRISTMAS, PEOPLE! I LOVE YOU! I got a wonderful fanart from Ebony, and my god, I love her for it. This is my cheap Christmas gift to you all. Yar, yar, don't hurt me. 

Randomly, one of my friends who read the first (maybe the second too, I dono. She doesn't review) chapter said that this was written in a style like cut by Patricia McCormick was written in. I loved that book…but didn't really know that I was duplicating it…sorry, for anyone who might've noticed that. I sure as hell didn't. I have yet to figure out where the hell I got the random freeverses. It struck me in church. We'll blame that.

Again, MERRY CHRISTMAS!


	4. Quicken the Descent

Quicken

By: Junsui Kegasu

A/N: Do slap me the next time I suppress inspiration.

Disclaimer: I own…a watch. That's it. It tells me what time I'm supposed to go to bed.

* * *

I think I might have read somewhere that romantic relationships are supposed to _feel_ different from friendship, not just appear so. Well, in the case of Deidara and I, I feel no different than I would with Kisame, and we don't exploit our little "I'll try this out" to the public. In theory, that means that technically, we are not in a romantic relationship. 

That is my conclusion. The only other possible solution was that I had a crush on Kisame, but I quickly out ruled that, since Kisame is as straight as an arrow and about as rigid as one when it comes to homosexuality. He's one of those people who consider it _wrong._ I never felt the same; I just didn't care. Now I know why.

Of course, it's not like I'll be coming out of the closet any time soon to my parents. That will most definitely be the final strand of their acceptance, and then I would most definitely be alone. It explains a lot, but I need to keep those explanations secret. Or, if Deidara ever meets my parents, I can pretend he's a girl. That's easy enough. Something tells me he really won't enjoy that, though.

I think the only significant difference in either of us publicly is that Deidara now contributes in Personal and has given up on Circle. Actually, he had given up on Circle after his sister revealed he wasn't leaving any time soon, but he still hadn't been contributing to Personal. Now he's opening up, publicly revealing his "disorder" to the closest thing he'll have to family for a long time.

Well, at least some of us.

"Hey, guys, I have a bit of news," Naruto suddenly announces one evening, oddly calm.

Everyone gives him his utmost attention. After all, we don't get _news_ in places like this, unless something drastic happened with your counselor. The only one who exploits his visits with _those people _is Gaa-chan, but right now, Shukaku is the dominating personality.

"Uh…well, I guess for me, it's a good thing, but you all might get pissed and try to beat me up." He gives us a goofy half-grin, and it strikes me that he must've been drugged. Naruto _never_ acts this happy. Either he's really euphoric about his news, or someone slipped something into his mashed potatoes at dinner.

"Just get to the point," Sasuke snaps. I don't know if anyone else can, but I see the brief, fluttering hues of hurt floating through those baby blues, and suddenly, it all makes sense.

* * *

"_Hey, Sasori, I have a question."_

"_Yeah?" _

"_Have you ever been in love?" _

"_I really don't know. I don't know if I've even had a crush on anyone before."_

"_Oh…Well, thanks…I guess."_

_Pause._

"_It's just so…_frustrating_!" A slap of fist against palm. "But I guess that's love, even though you wouldn't know that."_

* * *

Naruto is "in love" with Sasuke. I think it's probably more of a crush, considering they've known each other for only a month and a half and their both only fifteen, but perhaps it is. I don't believe in 'love at first sight,' though. 

"Fine," Naruto continues. This is another obvious sliver of behavior that pulls my drug theory more to the side of truth. On a normal day, Naruto might've become angry with Sasuke. Or perhaps that's his 'love' blinding him. "I'm getting out of here."

The general reaction is shock; it's the first time someone from our little group has left. No one says anything for a while. _Then_ the anger comes, the questions, and the slight air of silence. Finally, last and most certainly not last, the atmosphere is radiating _I'll miss you. _Some people aren't thoroughly convinced.

"What?"

"No shit?"

"How, yeah?"

"You're fucking kidding me."

I think it goes without saying that the order of those responses was Sasuke, Neji, Deidara, and Shukaku. I don't say anything. I predicted it; I knew it was going to happen. I think we all (except perhaps Gaara and Deidara. Gaara switches so rapidly, he barely knows what's going on, and Deidara just got here) expected it, but we didn't want to confront it when it happened. I wasn't all that close to Naruto, but he was one of the original three.

I look to see Neji and Sasuke's reaction. They would've been a little closer to the blonde seeing as they all shared a room. Neji looks really tired, kind of sad, but really tired, mostly. That's something to arouse suspicion, but I'll think about it later. Sasuke has his indifferent mask on, but I'm good at looking through those, and he's envious, a little sad, but not hurt.

He doesn't like Naruto back, then. I really hope that Naruto won't admit to him. I hope that he's too shy to bring it up. Who am I kidding? This is _Naruto._ Naruto and shy are like night and day. I only can hope that nothing drastic happens, but then again, these are Naruto and Sasuke we're talking about… I don't know anymore.

I'm snapped out of my thoughtful state when Naruto speaks up again. "I'm not leaving until like…the day after Christmas, though." This is both relieving and worrisome. It's a relief that we'll have time to say good-bye to him in our own way (I've gotten attached to this place more than I thought I had) and we won't miss him and envy him so much. But it's worrisome (at least for me) because he'll have a lot of time to admit to Sasuke, and I know disaster will strike if he tells him. I'm intuitive when it comes to Sasuke.

* * *

That night brings another bout of insomnia. I've been completely exhausted and depleted for a while, enough to get me to start eating at meals. I feel disgusting, so I'm always sure to do some sort of exercise in Personal. This doesn't bother anyone, thankfully, and they don't even give me a strange look. Another one of the few perks of being in a shrink: everyone _expects_ you to act somewhat ridiculous sometimes. 

Sometimes at night, Deidara will come down to the bottom bunk and we'll talk. Just talk. I guess he must be having sleep issues too. Tonight is one of those nights. Usually, we just talk about little things like how our day went, or discuss further one of the topics of Personal. Sometimes, he tells me about himself. I don't tell him any more than what I've told anyone else, because I'm not ready for that though. He hasn't told me much more than what he's admitted in circle, but I was the first to know.

Tonight is one of those nights. I smile softly when I feel the bed creak and feel the mattress shift to adjust to two people. It's so odd how my feelings have changed. I'm fond of him, now. Underneath that annoying exterior is a sweet kid. Well, I can't even call him that. He's my age, just a month and a half younger than me. Tonight he does something different, though. I feel an arm wrap around me from behind and start a little. Our relationship has never been physical.

I should've known.

"Hey, Sasori?" he asks in a whisper. It really doesn't matter, since Shukaku has retained dominance into the night and is blasting heavy metal into his brain, but we do it out of habit.

"Hm?" I answer, turning to face him for the sake of conversation. It's out of courtesy, and I forgot the arm around my waist until we're mere inches from each other. The darkness acts as a cover for my flush and I'm glad.

"Why do you do all that stuff in Personal, yeah?" There's a confused, amused, and even worried edge to his voice. I feel a little nervous; he's too good at picking out lies for me to cover this up with anything but the truth.

My words are chosen carefully. "Well…since I haven't been sleeping a lot," I start, pausing to see how I should word this. "I need to eat to gain enough energy to stay awake…if I pass out, they'll 'freak out'" he knows what that means now, since they're still 'freaking out' on Sasuke for his glass thing "on me and put me on a feeding tube to make me gain weight." As I pause again to think, he interjects.

"Well, that's a good thing for you, yeah," he says, and even though I can't see the frown, I know it's there. _He's worried._ It brings a new feeling to my stomach, blossoming and spreading through me. _He cares._

"But…the thing is…I don't want to gain weight." This is dangerous territory. This is what I'm not ready to tell him. "I don't want to…you know…'get better.'"

Silence passes between us for a little, and I fear (but don't know why I do so) that he might be offended. Finally, that smooth voice cuts through the silence, but it's not so relieving as it should be. "Why, yeah? I mean…I don't want to get better either, yeah. Fire is my art, yeah, but you…you're actually unhealthy."

He really is worried. My throat tightens and even if I could think of words to explain myself, I wouldn't be able to vocalize them. Finally, I can force out, "I just…I don't want to…"

"You could die like this, yeah…" he comments, and I know. I know all of this. I'm careful; I don't weigh that little where it could be fatal, because I don't want to die before I can make my parents proud.

"I know," I say simply, and mentally kick myself for it. It sounds so stupid. "But I won't die," I add to try to correct myself.

"You don't know that, yeah…I think you should at least gain a little weight, yeah." I feel his arm tighten a little around my waist, and I realize that he's measuring it, calculating how slim it is. He moves his hand up, leaving a ghosting touch over my ribs, counting them. I feel disgusting.

"But I _am_ gaining from eating so much…"

The hand back at my waist leaves and Deidara props himself up on his elbow, giving me a raised eyebrow. "Sasori. You eat half as much as the _kid_ does, yeah."

It's true and I know it, and I really can't find any way to deny it. "I, uh…never ate a lot," I fumble in a mumble, trying to defend myself, to try to cleanse myself of the disgust.

"Can you please try to, then, yeah?" he asks, nearly pleading. I look through the darkness to one blue eye, the color of the midnight sky without light. I can't say 'no.' He cares. He accepts me. And it's almost enough. But he's not who I need to appease.

"I'll try," I tell him, and it's not a lie, because I suppose I will, but I won't try very hard. I can't do that, just not yet. He smiles gently at me, to which the need to please fades a little, and hugs my waist once before disappearing back up to the top bunk.

I don't sleep again that night.

* * *

The oddities only continue at breakfast the next morning. It's rather disturbing. Before Deidara, everything was monotonous. Once he got here, suddenly all of these events started occurring. I can't and don't blame it on him; stuff like this would've happened anyways, except for our relationship. I think I feel the difference that was talked about in the book I read, now. I've never felt good about being accepted by anyone else but my parents, but he makes everything seem okay. 

Back to the oddities. The order in which people come down to breakfast is either Gaara, Naruto, Neji, Deidara, Sasuke and me, or Gaara, me, Naruto, Neji, Deidara, and Sasuke. Today, the order was me, Gaara, Naruto, Deidara, and Sasuke, but there was no Neji. This is odd because Neji needs to eat at meals or the withdrawal will take control of him mentally.

I shrug it off and my subconscious thinks of a thousand and one reasonable explanations. However, he's not at circle, either. Iruka looks around the room and when he sees that Neji isn't there, he pages Kakashi to go check up on him, and the tension begins. Naruto, at least, looks worried and Sasuke looks (as usual) indifferent. I really hope that nothing horrible has happened. With everything going on, I don't think our delicate little 'family' could take it.

For once, Circle is somewhat eventful. Iruka tried to start it about fifteen minutes into the time, commenting that Neji could join in when he got back. A silent scoff echoes through the atmosphere: _Yeah right._ Neji barely participates during _Personal,_ much less Circle. I am, however, going to make a point so ask Naruto what's going on if he's not with us by lunch. If he's skipping until _then,_ there's something seriously wrong.

About an hour and a half later, Kakashi comes back in and whispers something to Iruka. Seven eyes (Sasuke doesn't care and Deidara only keeps one eye visible) follow him as he walks out the door again. Neji doesn't come in (not even ten minutes later) and Iruka starts back up, lecturing us all about how the key to getting better is communication. Yeah, we'll communicate…later.

Ever since Deidara came, our seating in Circle has changes drastically. He let me have my corner back, but now he sits next to me, in between Sasuke and I. Surprisingly, the blonde is like me – easy to read through his eyes. So, when we exchange glances, I see his confusion clear as day and he sees my worry the same way. I think that only confused him more, but I suppose I can explain later. For now, I have thoughts to brood over.

Suddenly, I remember how tired Neji was in Personal yesterday. My optimistic side provides an explanation: he was over exhausted and is sleeping through Circle to regain energy. But they don't let anyone skip Circle…they consider it really important to have group therapy. Maybe they've finally given up on us, though…I don't know. I really don't. I can only hope that Neji joins us for lunch.

Circle is nearly over when my mind provides the secondary explanation: _What if he's sick?_ It makes sense…his withdrawal…no, he's been here four and a half months; it would've taken effect far sooner than now…right? I'm really not sure. I never had any experience with drugs other than Neji, and that hardly counts, because he didn't go into detail about how bad the withdrawal was. I really don't know what's going on.

I can only hope I find out soon. First Naruto, now Neji – our original three is dwindling.

* * *

"Sasori, how close are to your peer, Neji?"

_Close enough to be worried._

"What about Naruto?"

_What about him? He's leaving…_

* * *

Neji wasn't at lunch or at evening Circle. This is critical. No one has ever missed a full day of therapy in my entire six months of living here. No one got sick. No one got hurt, until now. I'm really worried. This is why I didn't want to get attached to things; they always end up leaving, or something ridiculous happens, like now. I have a feeling that I probably won't sleep tonight, but then again, as I haven't slept well for a bit, hopefully I'll be out like a light. 

At dinner, everyone is stony-faced and eats their potato salad silently. I hate potato salad. There's too much mayonnaise among other things that just make your arteries _scream._ However, Deidara is giving me a look. I try to resist it, but he has what a person would call "puppy dog eyes." Giving him the meanest glare I can muster under the circumstances, I forcefully scoop up a potato cube from the pile on my tray and shove it in my mouth, chewing carefully. He looks pleased.

Gaa-chan gives us both a questioning glace, causing a lull in his childish rant about how he hates potato salad before starting back up again. Sasuke groans loudly to try to send a subliminal message to the other teen, but Gaa-chan can't hear him or chooses to ignore him, going on, and on, and on. On a normal day, Naruto would yell at him to shut up, as Gaa-chan has a problem with just about everything this place serves (he eats it, though. That's the odd thing) but today, he reaches over and ruffles his hair, stopping the redhead in mid-rant.

"Y'know, I think I might actually miss you always complaining…"

…Yeah, they definitely have Naruto on some kind of cracked up version of Zoloft. It's kind of sad, though, and sentimental, and silence overcomes us all before we go back to the potato salad. Even Deidara, who barely knows Neji or Naruto lowers his gaze back to his food. Nothing eventful happens again until we hear footsteps in the small cafeteria, causing everyone to look up.

Of course, just our luck; it's a cafeteria worker. The woman, a pretty looking girl with long black hair, gives us all a funny look before starting to sweep up messes from other divisions. Taking it as a hint to leave, we all finish up our food and dump what we've decided not to eat into the trashcan. I dump out nearly all of mine, ignoring Deidara's pleading glance for me to eat more. I hate potato salad.

The walk to Personal is quieter than usual. By now, we've usually loosened up, since we know that in just a few minutes, we'll be as close to freedom as we can ever get. It's kind of ironic how 'freedom' is in the form of a small, windowless, but generously furnished room. Everyone realizes (even Gaa-chan, but I think he may or may not have switched) that the topic of conversation tonight won't be as light and carefree as usual. Tonight is a time for serious discussion.

We don't start talking when the door closes; we wait for the lock to click. Adding just another five seconds of waiting for good measure is our usual habit, but five seconds soon turn to fifteen, then to twenty-five. We don't know how to say this without sounding blatant or worried. Finally, Naruto starts it off with a sigh.

"He's been acting weird all week."

There's a hidden anger in that sentence – anger at himself? Anger at Neji? I can't tell. All I know is that Naruto is back to normal: unsure of how to deal with his feelings, so he resorts to anger. It's not as bad as it was three months ago. That's why he's leaving. It's like an example for all of us to follow: _get better._ Well, fuck examples, because I won't.

That's not what today's Personal is about, though. Today, we need to discuss Neji. After a long moment of silence after Naruto's confession, no one else knows what to say. I feel really bad and scold myself until my conscience is raw; I only noticed yesterday! What happened to those observation skills, Sasori? You should've predicted this…maybe done something…

I know that blaming myself really won't do anything. In fact, I don't think I will. I'll direct my anger at whoever the hell thought it was a good idea to take a drug addict for at least two years and deprive him completely for four and a half months. When I voice this, everyone looks up in surprise.

"You mean they honestly did that?" is the basic reaction to say the least. I don't think I need to elaborate.

"Yeah, they did. He hasn't said anything to anyone else because I guess he kind of got used to it, but in the beginning, it was really bad for him," I explain, feeling kind of awkward. I'm revealing things Neji hasn't decided to reveal to everyone else, and it feels kind of wrong. But now that he's sick, as hypocritical as it sounds, he needs help.

Well, maybe it's not so hypocritical. He needs help from people who understand the only way to get off a fucking addiction is to wean someone off of it. Not like this. Never like this. I'm too emotional over this for my own good, but I don't care. Neji was my first 'friend' here, even though I didn't admit it until just recently. Naruto was my second. If they both leave, I don't know. I don't like change.

In my thoughts, I realize that my words have brought silence to the room. I think that maybe we're all coming to the same realization in our own way: if he's really getting sick, he's going to get moved to an intensive care ward. He might never come back to rejoin our sick little family. Maybe I'm the only one who really cares, but we all know it's probably to happen. Who knows how much time we have left?

Have you ever wished that you could just go back into the past and correct any mistakes that you made? I would change any perfection starting from my birth – the biggest one being I growing attached to this place. No, that's selfish. I would've changed how _they_ dealt with Neji's addiction and made them wean him off. It's astounding he's lasted this long, perhaps a little too astounding.

"How long has Neji been here, yeah?" Deidara asks softly. "There's no way he could've lasted more than a month without some type of drug before dying. There's something more to this, yeah."

Leave it to him to connect and voice my thoughts. I'm grateful for it, and nod in agreement. "Something's going on here. We need to figure this out."

All through the evening, Gaa-chan has been silent (if he hasn't changed) so it's a little bit surprising when the soft chirp breaches the air. "Does that mean we're gonna be like detectives?"

Everyone laughs nervously. Normally, people would've gotten mad at him. We should've shaken the reality into him. But he's Gaa-chan, and god knows we need the relief right now. Everything is going wrong. I can feel it in my chest.

_Quicken the d e s c e n t_

* * *

A/N: The end of this, I think, is kind of hurried…not sure, though…actually, I'm kind of iffy about the quality of this one…constructive criticism asked for, please. 


	5. Quicken the Jubilee

Quicken

By: Junsui Kegasu

A/N: I'm in a really good mood right now…figured I'd start working on this…even though this has a bunch of angst.

Disclaimer: Own nothing. I don't even own the money _I_ make until after the Boston trip…

* * *

_We wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a Merry Christmas! We wish you a merry Christmas and a happy new year! Good tidings to you and all of your kin -_

"This is really, really, really, really stupid, yeah."

_- Good tidings to Christmas and a happy new year!_

I can't find any way possible to disagree. If the sound system wasn't conveniently hidden from our view (when they did this, I've no clue) I think I wouldn't mind Deidara finding some way – seemingly impossible – to burn the damn thing to little bits and pieces. I think I've mentioned my particular hatred for holidays. At least they aren't making us preach about the birth of Jesus or something.

"Oi, kid! Have you found anything yet, yeah?"

It was kind of mean to Gaa-chan, but Deidara couldn't stand the carols any more and had the hyperactive (_"Christmas! Yay! Nii-chan's coming!")_ teen go and try to find wherever the evil device was located…

"Found what?"

…Until he turned into Shukaku. This violent side of Gaara can be stubborn as a horse, and since he doesn't remember his 'mission,' he has no motivation to complete it. Deidara sighs loudly and gives up, flopping onto Gaara's bed because it's much easier to do so upon than his or mine.

"Can I borrow your CD player, yeah?"

"Are you planning on burning it?"

I can't help a snort at that. Shukaku doesn't like people. Usually, he has his music on by now, blocking out everything (and he obviously is getting close to that, judging by the way he just brought a hand to his temple to massage it) and I haven't really interacted with him much. To put it bluntly, I'm a little afraid. Because he doesn't remember people unless all four personalities see that person constantly, and Shukaku is the most recessive one, he isn't afraid to hurt any of us.

I don't think he realizes we're in a shrink.

"No, I don't, yeah." A scowl has decided to grace the blonde's lips, almost making it look like he's pouting. "I just _really_ hate Christmas music, yeah."

I might be able to predict the outcome to this. Shukaku, as violent and angry as he is, is rather selfish. He's getting close to grabbing the CD player and blasting his brain out with Slipknot. Deidara wants the same CD player to relieve himself of the torment that is Christmas music. Silence greets me, and I place my bet on "no."

"Whatever."

I'm almost surprised. Almost. This isn't over yet; with Shukaku, "whatever" can mean a wide variety of things. The most obvious one would be yes, as the general meaning of "whatever" when it's used like this is "whatever you want" but one can never really tell. He could be saying "whatever; not my problem" to Deidara's hatred of Christmas music or "whatever; that was a stupid question" that he couldn't use the media device.

Deidara picks A. He thanks Shukaku and slams the headphones onto his head, clicking the power button. I frown; something's wrong…I can feel it. Deidara's ears are about as sensitive as mine and Shukaku likes to blast music. I want to warn him before the music comes on. Also, does he even _like_ metal? Well, he might not be aware of what's in there. The personality of last night (before I fell asleep) was Bokaira; it might be Evanescence or something-

"ACK!" –or it's definitely Shukaku's music. "What _is_ this shit, yeah?" he proclaims, angrily throwing the headphones around his shoulders. I don't see how Gaara isn't deaf; I can hear the music as clearly as if the foam coverings were against the shells of _my_ ears and not slung around Deidara's shoulders. _I'm gonna snap! I'm gonna snap! I'm gonna snap! I'm gonna snap! Gonna snap! Gonna snap!_

He jams the off button. "Got anything else, yeah?" His only response is a shrug. "I hate metal worse than I hate Christmas music, yeah. At least you can burn the sheet music for Christmas music around Christmas, yeah, because people always play it on the piano. CDs don't burn; just melt, and melting isn't cool, yeah."

"Would you shut up?"

Another snort. Deidara can get a little carried away when he rants, and Shukaku is probably rather agitated by the belabored use of "yeah" in his sentences. I'm really going to figure out if his sister does it, too, and then shoot his parents when I get out of here. Or maybe not - they'll stick me back in here for anger management or something.

I never hated Christmas music (I actually kind of enjoyed listening to the radio around the holiday season) but right now, I'm about ready to blow out an artery with the metal. Now there's some version of "White Christmas" playing, but we don't have to dream. The entire building is white, perhaps just to satisfy a childish urge to have a white Christmas. Ha, ha. I made a joke. I should just stop sleeping altogether.

Well, technically, I barely slept last night. Right now, it's only seven thirty in the morning. They've been playing the Christmas music since seven. I think they're assuming we'll all be at breakfast by now. Shukaku is probably the reason Gaara's so thin (I like to think it's not his dad) because he hates eating. Perhaps it's just the cafeteria food, but Gaa-chan still devours _that_ sludge. Deidara decided he wasn't hungry, I guess, because he's not out there.

There's a good side to Circle today – no Circle. Since it's Christmas, it's a visiting block. I don't have anyone coming (my parents were the only ones on the block who worked on Christmas once I didn't believe in Santa Clause anymore) but I don't have to worry about listening to Iruka preach for three hours, either. Plus, perhaps I can understand a little more about my ever-enigmatic roommates. Curiosity killed the cat, they say, but humans are much smarter.

At least my thoughts aren't the only thing echoing in the silence today. No words are exchanged, but Shukaku is now working valiantly to find the speaker and pound it into the ground and Deidara decided to put up with the metal. I think I'm beginning to like the sound of headphone leakage. When I'm in my room, I'm very grateful when it replaces Silence. Like right now. I can't think in Silence; it's too loud.

* * *

To our utter horror, the walk down the hall is filled with the same "jolly" music emanating from our room. Deidara groans loudly and plugs his ears with his fingers, scowling darkly. I won't take such drastic measures, but I _will_ sigh in annoyance. That will do. Leave the dramatics for Deidara, Shukaku, Sasuke, and Naruto. Hopefully, in Circle, they'll tone it down. Wait, what am I thinking? There's to be _talking_ going on; they'll turn it up, if anything. 

Wonderful.

The first thing I take in from the Circle room is the continuing music, Kankurou, Deidara's sister, and the decorations. This is what I expected, so this is what I see. After a slight moment, I notice Itachi, mostly from Sasuke's "humph" of displeasure. It takes me a long, long while after that (in a sense of seconds) to realize the other thing. I'm still concentrating on the music, thinking of which corner I should occupy as long as I don't have anyone to visit.

"Sasori?"

That voice is ominously familiar, far too familiar. It's something I wasn't expecting, something out of my plan of Perfection. Something I don't really _want_ to deal with, but I know that I have to. I have to once I get out of here. I can't just move out on my own, but I don't want to deal with it, I don't want to deal with it. I'm not perfect enough - not yet. Not yet.

_Mom._

"Sasori, darling, come here!" She's waving me over. It would be imperfect, rude, unbecoming of me to ignore her. I have to. I need to prove I'm enough. It's so childish, but I have to. With a pace I think is suitable (not too fast; that makes me seem overeager. Not too slow; that makes me seem hesitant and unwilling) I set off in her direction, my heart pounding so hard I think my chest is going to explode. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out. You were on the track team! Athletic breathing, Sasori! You can do this!

And suddenly, I can do anything. I'm five years old again, embraced in elegant, not-too-strong-but-still-there perfume, arms clothed in sweaters featuring the latest fashion, stylishly medium-length hair tickling at my cheek. I'm okay. I'm good enough.

_But I'm not._

I hug her back, but there's a lump in my throat. It's not a lump that tells me I'm about to cry; it's more like a lump that's reminding me I'm to stay tear-free until I get out of this place, because tears are little imperfections being shed from your eyes.

(_oh how i wish i could cry all the flaws away)_

"I've missed you, dear," she murmurs, but I can feel her arms tighten around my nonexistent waist. She can tell. I'm not better. I'm not _perfect._ I never was; I never will be. And that is what hurts the most.

"I've missed you too, Mom," I force out after a couple seconds, willing my voice to an even, calm place. "It's a pleasant surprise to see you." I add, the hidden message that she won't understand screaming _Why now and not before?_

"Well, I meant to come quite a few times – oh, it's been so long," she sidetracks, brushing my hair from my eyes. It's been a while since I last cut it – since I last had the freedom to cut it. "Anyways. I've meant to come quite a few times, but you know work, dear. It doesn't wait, and to refuse to go in would be rather rude of me."

_More like imperfect. Do you even know the meaning of such a word?_

"Merry Christmas, Sasori." It's not merry. It really isn't. It's choking me with repetitive carols and the surprise and something out of the routine and _I can't stand change._ I want to run away, run away from all my problems like I used to do, but it wasn't enough, and I want to run to the bathroom and just panic and scream and cry and throw up and do _anything._

I can't do that, though. It's not perfect. It's the complete opposite – it's _insane. _It's _what they expect._ I refuse to do it. Instead, I'll play the Calvin Klein family game. "Merry Christmas to you, too, Mom. Where's Dad?" A stupid question; he's working, of course. Why, doesn't _every_ father work on Christmas day?

"Oh, he's working…putting in some overtime so when you come home-" she smoothes my hair from my forehead again; it had fallen out of place. I didn't even notice. "-We can go on a vacation to somewhere nice. I'm hoping for Australia; the weather is supposed to be _gorgeous_ down there."

I tune out the rambling. An incentive to come home – that's all this is. Part of me wants to do it. Part of me wants to engage in such an expensive and Perfect trip with my two Perfect parents and live in my Perfect world – or at least, try to, and think that my imperfection is still the worst thing in the world. It is, but now there are other things worse, too. At least I'm not beat by my father or neglected by my uncle or shifted off from foster home to foster home.

As she stops talking, I can take the opportunity to glance around the room and see what's going on with everyone else. From Deidara and his sister, I catch a few disappointed snippets of conversation. Deidara's parents weren't there again. I wonder where they are? Does his father work on Christmas day, too? Gaa-chan has returned at the sight of his brother, every so often fading into Gaara for the sake of proving to Kankurou that he's still there, but mostly keeping the happy demeanor. There's another girl there, too, with spiky blond hair that I'm assuming to be his sister. And finally, the last one with a visitor is-

"Oh, my goodness…a-are those…but they're so _deep…_"

-Sasuke.

"I didn't realize the variety of people here…" Trained brown eyes are glancing around the room, settling on how small Gaara is for his age (unless she just assumes he's eleven or something) and the scars decorating his left arm, on how feminine Deidara is (unless she assumes he's a girl) and finally back to me, eyes sympathetic. I'm almost a little angry. I'm not the only one who had a _problem,_ and mine _isn't_ a problem. I just need to be perfect. _That's _my problem.

More silence passes between my mother and I, and I think she can feel it too. Finally, after minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, she announces that she needs to go to work for some overtime. I don't see why. We're not even close to debt. But I guess I had to inherit my perfectionism from somewhere. I can only hope they didn't go through something like this, because now they're just hypocritical and she never told me I did a good job. I'm _not_ doing a good job. I'm not getting better.

And I don't want to.

Silence passes between us for a little while longer before she attempts to make this visit (oh-so-far from our home) meaningful by making small talk. I answer in short, clipped (but not rude) sentences, but I guess I find out a bunch about what's going on. Apparently, an uncle on her side of the family (he's her only brother and they don't speak to each other) is getting sued for child abuse, but that's the only randomly interesting thing going on at the moment. Except for me. I'm sure Dad's side of the family (the _prestigious)_ knows all about Sasori's little _problem,_ his little _imperfection,_ and I can't ever face them again. I'm going to end up as one of those hobos who don't even remember whom their parents are.

Finally, the tension (so much worse than it is in Circle make it go away) ends when she tucks a strand of auburn hair behind her ear with a clearing of her throat and announces she needs to leave to make it to work. I nod, a lump in my throat reminding me of being five again, when Mommy and Daddy were at work all the time and the baby sitter would just sit there and watch television or talk to her friends and it was like Akasuna Sasori didn't exist. I'm enveloped by that scent again, and a little part of me hopes it stays on my clothes, so whenever I wear them, I can be five again.

I'm being stupid and I don't care.

Once she leaves, I go back to my original mission of eavesdropping, specifically on Gaara and Deidara, but come to think of it, I barely know anything about Sasuke either. I suppose I can eavesdrop on him. I figured since he hated his brother so much, there wouldn't be any conversation going on, but I can see their lips moving, so I inconspicuously move over, taking a seat in the corner by them, which is my corner anyways, so I have a good enough excuse.

For a while, it almost seems like they're talking about something interesting. Something about inheritance from their parents, but it ends up turning into Sasuke whining (without sounding like he is, of course) about how he doesn't care about the money; he just wants to get out of there. When questioned why, he won't answer. It should be obvious. He hates his brother, who looks just like him with longer hair and reddish eyes. Maybe we can be hobos together.

It grows boring quickly, so I relocate myself to within hearing range of Gaa-chan, Kankurou, and the mystery girl. Gaa-chan has gone back to Gaara again, which thrills the blonde (obviously the multiple personality stuff disturbs her) but now he's really shy. In hushed tones, they're talking about how their Christmas should go, and with a happy tone to his voice Kankurou says that "if all goes well" they'll have the first merry Christmas in a while. I don't know what that means, but I'm reminded of my uncle, getting sued for child abuse.

Before I can question family relations, I remember that initially, I really wanted to find out more about Deidara. Discreetly, I slink into an area that I can hear them clearly, picking up little bits of information that I already knew, and some new stuff.

"Why can't they come, yeah?" I'm assuming 'they' is referring to his parents. Something in me twitches at the hurt tone of his voice, and I feel bad. I didn't want my parents to come, but my mom came anyways. He wants his parents to come, but they won't.

"Because…they…just couldn't," his sister tells him, but I can tell it's a lie and Deidara can too, I think. I find a small part of my mind whisper in relief that she doesn't add "yeah" at the end of her sentences.

"They're still…upset, aren't they, yeah?" Deidara asks again, his voice darker, more sarcastic. Obviously, he too had parents who disapproved of his art. That's why he's here; he really, really doesn't want to get better.

"…A little," Mieko admits, sighing. "I keep telling them that it's really not that bad, that they kind of overreacted-"

Deidara snorts. The sound doesn't sound so good on him. "Sure, yeah. They completely overreacted to me attempting to burn down school, yeah."

"But you didn't! You got caught! You didn't have to be sent here!"

"Are you honestly regretting it, yeah?" Now Deidara really sounds sour. I feel like I'm invading on something far too personal, but at the same time, I can't pull myself away. I want to know this. Curiosity killed the cat. Well, perhaps I'm human, but maybe the part of my brain compelling me to do this is a cat. I hope it dies.

"They didn't have to go this far…and I know you hate it here. I can just tell; you want to leave really, really bad, and I think that this is too severe. Look who you're stuck with!" she exclaims, gesturing around the room. Suddenly, I wish Gaa-chan would stop acting like he's five because it's only proving her point and Sasuke should stop rubbing his scars like that, and my wrists suddenly look really, really fragile and thin. It's so damn obvious.

"They're not that bad, yeah," Deidara huffs in defense. "Perhaps I'm scared of the little one a little, yeah, but that's because I don't know what the hell he's going to do next, yeah." Inwardly, another snort of amusement leaves my throat. Deidara is really uncomfortable with Gaara's constant switching. "They're here for a reason, yeah. Something compelled them to be the way they are, yeah!"

Why do I get the strong impression that he's talking about me? Suddenly, the urge to not listen anymore overcomes me, and I think that inner cat has died, so I slink off to my corner to digest everything I just heard and think. Sasuke doesn't care about money; he just wants to get away from Itachi. That's not so emo as it usually is. I kind of feel bad for him. Deidara's parents have turned away as soon as their son turned to a darker side. It's hurting him. I don't know what to do to help either of them, and Deidara is the one I need to worry about.

He hasn't told me any of this yet, so that's a relief. I only have to worry when he tells me. It's selfish, but I don't know what to say. I really don't. I don't do well with social situations; I never have. It was a flaw that no one noticed, so I never tried to fix it. At least I can prepare myself for when the time comes, if ever. Something tells me that it might not for a long time. This is something of Deidara's past that's forbidden; something I'm not supposed to know. I do, and it feels kind of guilty.

I hate holidays.

_Quicken the j u b i l e e_

* * *

A/N: Yeah, this is more of a filler chapter…don't hate me. Some stuff happened! The title is made to reflect sarcasm, too…since it's a holiday…more stuff next chapter. Honestly. Don't shoot me! (cowers behind her printer) Oh, also: the lyrics (_I'm gonna snap, _etc.) are from Slipknot's "Snap." I do not own that. 


	6. Quicken the Adaptation

Quicken

By: Junsui Kegasu

A/N: It's been a bit, people. I've had writers' block for this so bad, but Freak on a Leash had major inspiration. I haven't even started working on that, though…so…oh, also, some people were confused, particularly about this part of the last chapter:

_As she stops talking, I can take the opportunity to glance around the room and see what's going on with everyone else. From Deidara and his sister, I catch a few disappointed snippets of conversation. Deidara's parents weren't there again. I wonder where they are? Does his father work on Christmas day, too? Gaa-chan has returned at the sight of his brother, every so often fading into Gaara for the sake of proving to Kankurou that he's still there, but mostly keeping the happy demeanor. There's another girl there, too, with spiky blond hair that I'm assuming to be his sister. And finally, the last one with a visitor is-_

"_Oh, my goodness…a-are those…but they're so deep…"_

_-Sasuke._

Yeah, how that works is there's the paragraph, which is Sasori's thoughts that are then interrupted by his mom talking about Sasuke, and then he ends the paragraph…sorry… thought it made sense…

Disclaimer: I own a bird. He dislikes me.

* * *

Neji has been officially declared "missing" among us. Not even Naruto (who's still here, by the way, nearly three days after Christmas) or Sasuke knows what's going on. They went to bed one night and Neji wasn't there. Iruka hasn't mentioned a word and no one gossips. We can pretty much assess the possibility, but no one likes to do that: Neji has been hospitalized or moved. 

It's all still very suspicious, as Deidara revealed before, and I think we're all worried in our own way. Sasuke seems to have withdrawn even more into himself, which proves something's wrong, Naruto isn't nearly the sunspot we've known him to be (but that can also be because he's leaving), all of Gaara's personalities seem subdued (although, it seems to be mostly Bokaira and Gaara these days), and Deidara's face shows all. My face does the same, but at the same time, Gaa-chan's told me to stop acting like Sasuke.

Sometimes, it almost seems like Neji took something with him when he vanished. Even though he really didn't say much and I'm the only one he really talked to (and that was, honestly, only one time) he was always…there. He cracked jokes every so often in Personal (yeah, we crack jokes. Go ahead and snort in disbelief) and smiled in response to some of the other ones. Now, there's an empty chair in Circle, a gap at our meal table, and too much room in Personal. It's a good thing he doesn't bunk with me, or I'd be freaking out over the space in there too.

Other than Neji, other things have been happening too. Ever since the day after Christmas, Naruto has been the other object of our main concern. Each hour, there's this ocean of anticipation that he's going to be taken away. With two spaces vacated, my mind might just go insane, so I can only hope this entire thing prolongs itself far out.

It probably won't happen like that, though. Nothing ever does – not even in fairy tales! Something bad always happens, and then it turns out okay in the end. That's why I hate fairy tales: they're too damn unrealistic. Nothing turns out like that; being in this shrink is a prime example. No one just _stops_ their 'problem' and decides to get better. It doesn't work like that, ever. No one ever sees that.

And these are the things I think about when I should be sleeping. I'm going to tell myself it's one in the morning, because then my body will believe it and not worry, and it'll have quite a good shot at sleep until eight thirty. I've given up on breakfast again; Deidara always frowns at me in Circle, but I've had much experience in the way of attempted guilt trips when it comes to me starving myself and it won't work.

Besides…I eat at lunch and dinner. The minimum requirement is all of your dinner, and I eat a small lunch and most of my dinner, which is more than I ate before Deidara. Fortunately for me, I haven't really _gained_ much (at least, I don't think) but I'm sustaining my weight now, which is maybe okay. Since I can't run anymore, as there is no track team to prove myself to, now I just need to worry about not gaining any weight rather than losing more to become faster.

It's kind of weird. Six months ago, I wouldn't be thinking like this. Six months ago, I would've continued to increase my speed, whether I was supposed to or not. Now, I don't care about that anymore. I just don't want to gain weight, because it'll feel like too much and I'll for sure be fat if I can't see my ribs anymore. I'm fine where I am, and if Iruka and the other can't see that, I guess I'll have to hold off until March. Then they'll have to release me.

I think it's safe to begin the count down now. It's the end of December (the twenty-eighth. I've been keeping track since Christmas) so I only have about two months to wait. I can do it. I can make it 'till the end, and then I'll be free.

Why must freedom seem like such an elusive thing?

* * *

Have you ever felt your heart drop like an anvil from your chest, through your stomach, down your leg, and out your foot? It's really not a pleasant feeling, but unfortunately one I had to feel when I got to Circle this morning. I knew it was going to happen, but I chose to not bring up my defenses when I should've. I was foolish. 

I thought I was the first one to the room, which is unusual for me, but I didn't feel like being in the bedroom and breakfast wasn't an option because I'm feeling weak willed today. Plus, I feel kind of sick, which is odd in the sanitized world, but I think it's just all this change and what it does to me. Speaking of change…I knew this was going to happen. I've been _expecting_ this, for crying out loud! And yet, it still made my heart do that surprised demon drop through my body.

Naruto is standing there, but it isn't with his hands shoved into his pockets, scowling, and looking like he would rather be asleep. Well, the third aspect is true, but he has a _suitcase._ That can only mean one thing; he's this close to being gone and I'm the only one who witnessed it. Part of me is glad to see him one last time and at least being three hundred percent of where he disappeared to, but there's always that plummet…

They didn't notice me in the doorway. I think that's a good thing, but I am getting that foreboding feeling of intrusion again. To hell with that feeling - I might just learn something important from all of this.

"Hey, Iruka, just one thing that I kind of was curious about," Naruto starts, adjusting the weight of his bag on his shoulders and fixing the maroon hat jammed atop sun-kissed spikes. "What happened to Neji?"

My breath catches in my throat. Part of me wants to know, but another part wants to keep living in denial. I don't know which part of me wants what more, so I stay frozen in place, my pulse ringing in my ears – an even, comforting _thu-thump. Thu-thump._

Iruka sighs, turning away and looking around. As quickly as I dare while being cautious of silence, I duck away from the entrance to the room, pressing myself against the wall, juxtaposed with a poster stating that "You Don't Have to Hide." How ironic.

"Well, it was actually a trick modern science played on us. When Neji first got here, obviously, we had to place him on heavy medication in order to quell his withdrawal. It seemed for a while that every time we tried to lessen his dose, he'd start experiencing strange withdrawals to the medicine, so we had to alter his dosage. Recently, it was looking like he was experiencing odd side effects from the medicine that affected chemical structures in his body, so we pulled him out altogether, but he had been getting sick and a side effect _and_ withdrawal nabbed him. We had to hospitalize him because of fever, mostly, but since nothing seems to be working, he probably won't be rejoining this group."

_Thu-thump. Thu-thump. Thu-Thump._

It makes sense. It makes perfect sense and I feel rather foolish for my outburst before, about them not having Neji on anything. They had him on stuff, but something tells me he wasn't aware of it. The problem with a lot of us "mentally warped" is that we develop this odd rebellion against medicine, so if we know we're taking something, we either won't or can't take it, or depending on the product, it won't work. To fix the problem, they administer it to us when we don't know, usually during Counseling.

I need to tell them. There's no way around it; I _need_ to, but just as I'm about to turn and possibly burst out my news into the cafeteria (although, I'd probably stop half-way there, realize the stupidity and spontaneity of it and go back) I hear voices; actually, what sounds like Gaa-chan trying to hold a conversation with Sasuke. Why is Gaa-chan always present at meals?

"You really just have to stop being so grumpy, Sasuke!"

"…Whatever…"

A giggle. "Don't you take that tone with me, Mr.!"

"Gaara, just shut up."

I snort quietly, putting myself into view again and strolling into Circle as calmly as I can manage, passing Deidara an "I need to tell you something ridiculously important" glance. He catches it and scoots his chair (already next to mine) a little closer, giving me his curious/anticipating/slightly worried look that means he's expecting it to be something bad, like I'm going to break off our relationship or something.

I guess it turns out I'm as good at reading emotions as I am accidentally displaying them across my face. Unfortunately, I can't tell him anything, because Iruka starts talking again, and this time, we're all paying attention. All focus lies on Naruto, either his head or his feet. Hats and shoes aren't allowed here. Hey, wait, neither are jeans or hooded sweatshirts!

It sinks into the atmosphere, and inwardly, I flinch. I hate this atmosphere; everyone is morose (I swear they have a Gaa-chan ward on this room) and they're going to stay that way the rest of the day. Which means when I get to tell them my revelation in Personal, it's going to feel the same way. Maybe I won't get to say anything, because this atmosphere prefers silence.

Fuck the atmosphere. Global warming is doing the same thing, isn't it?

All eyes are still glued to Naruto, who has decided not to look at us. I don't really blame him, but I wish he'd say something, anything. This is a last time; it should be different, right?

_Wrong._

The realization hits me as soon as the previous thought presses to the front of my mind. He's trying to preserve a tradition that he took part of for four months. He won't say anything and we won't say anything, because that's how it always worked. Maybe this is a message. Maybe he's telling us that it's not that big of a change, but if he is, he's wrong. It's two whole people missing that we won't be able to bring back.

Quickly, almost insignificantly, Naruto's gaze flickers up from the gray carpet (was it gray? I never noticed before) and catches mine for a nanosecond before shooting back to their original position. Everyone else may have missed it, but I think he knows I overheard Iruka's explanation of Neji. It might be a relief for him, a relief that he's not the only one who knows, since we've all expressed our worries in separate ways.

And then, without gusto, without sappy tears and waving hands and hugs, he turns and walks out the door, heading down the hall to freedom. Freedom is not elusive to him as it is to I. He got better, maybe he didn't realize it at first, but he got better. Freedom, because of that, is a much simpler goal than mine. I don't want to get better and I'm _not _getting better.

I'm changing a little, just barely enough for me to notice and adjust slightly, not too badly, but I'm not getting better. There's a difference. …I think. No, there is a difference. There has to be clear-cut differences. Nothing in this world is a smudged line of confusion; everything has a diamond-cut precision about it. We just don't realize it often.

Naruto's gone now and he didn't leave a legacy. If he did, I wouldn't say it anyways because that's ridiculously sappy and he obviously didn't want that. I don't know if anyone else caught on to it, but they're not acting sappy anyways. It's just not like that. Maybe Naruto thought about that, too. I don't know. I've never been inside his head before, but I'm sure it'd be a trip.

I glance around to see how everyone else is faring and catch Sasuke's glance. He almost looks…angry. Angry with what, I'm not sure, but my heart sinks slowly and settles in my stomach from where it ascended back up to my ribcage when the thought that Naruto might've confessed crosses my mind. Sasuke either said "no" or now despises him for making such admittance or he said "yes" and he's angry because Naruto then left.

Maybe I'll confront Sasuke about that, but I probably won't, because it's honestly none of my business and Sasuke is far better a liar than I am. Hell, when I think about it, Sasuke's far better a _hider_ than I. The way he'd been cutting before he got here, he would've been having to wear long sleeves in the summer, and we're not ridiculously warm in summer like Florida, but hell, this isn't Alaska; it's way too warm to do that. He would've had to devise many methods of hiding it, unless his brother didn't really care until he found the suicide attempt.

Good-bye, Naruto. It's been nice having you in my company for four months, and you will be missed. You can't hear that, but that's okay, because neither can anyone else. They're my thoughts – mine – and no counselor can ever pry open my head and worm them out of me. Never.

WHAT _did_ YOU _just_ SAY _to _ME  
**!bitch come and say it to my face again bitch!  
**S**L**_A_M! **B**_A_M! **P**_O_W! **C**_R_AC**K** BR**E**_A_K!  
i'llkillyou.i'llkillyou.i'llkillyou.i'llkillyou  
**_quicken the violence_**

* * *

After three hours of a lecture centering on how Naruto got better and that's why he walked out that door today, so we should follow his example - subliminally, of course, we're allowed to leave. They wouldn't try to send us on a guilt trip blatantly like that. It might depress us more and make us cry, which isn't the goal of these people. Can the sarcasm be heard dripping off my voice yet?

Walking out the door, Deidara approaches me, giving me a dark, serious look with the one blue eye he keeps visible. I discreetly move a little closer, so when he speaks, only I can hear it and vice versa.

"What's up, yeah?" he asks, a trickle of worry seeping through his nonchalant demeanor. I smile, just barely, just enough for him to see the cryptic message, just to assure him and start.

"I think I might need to hold off 'till Personal to tell you. It's about Neji."

Deidara gives me a curiously shocked look before nodding in understanding. We can't discuss anything under the cameras; that paranoia has sunk into him. It doesn't take that long, but now he understands.

Now, however, I have to leave him to turn down the hall to my counselor's office. Great, three hours of one-on-one with some lady who's name I can never remember. She told me what it was once, but I don't care. Tsu-something. I wish Personal would come sooner, but I don't wish too hard lest the day will inch by slower than usual.

I'm the only one that goes down this particular hallway to go to a counselor, and though I know it's watched with not-so-hidden cameras, I'm always tempted to simply keep strolling past room eighteen and just keep walking around for three hours so I can skip this part of my day. It never works that way, though, and I always go in through the oaken door obediently.

Today is no exception. Maybe one day I'll keep walking, but not today. Today, I'll walk in like a good little boy and sit on the plump, overstuffed, itchy couch like a good little boy with my hands in my lap, but I won't say a word. That's just how it works. You think Tsu-something would just give up.

I take my place on the cushion farthest to the left; it's more interesting than the one on the right. It appears as though someone had spilled coffee on the armrest, and on days when I _really_ get bored, I stare at it. Every time I look, the dark stain marring itchy red material looks like something different, which is actually intriguing. Today, it looks like a sun - a darkened sun, but a sun.

"Well, Hello, Sasori."

No answer. There never is, so she should really stop pausing after she says that.

"So, Sasori, I heard your friend Naruto left."

I swear, they have this conspiracy thing going on where once we get out of Circle, Iruka tells everyone in the building what happens, because then people try to get us to speak about whatever happened. I hate it, even though it makes perfectly logical sense. About two minutes later, she gives up with this approach.

"It says here in a psychological study that you don't like change. How are you taking to this?"

Suddenly, my ribcage constricts, but I force the alarm down. I don't know where she got the information; I don't want to know how they've managed to conduct a study, but I won't let it get to me. If this is some attempt to get me to speak, even if it's just the words "How did you know?" it isn't going to work. I'm a little smarter than that, Tsu-something.

The next two hours and forty-five minutes are going to drag out. I can already feel it.

* * *

They say that when you constantly watch a clock, time slows down to a crawl, because you keep looking at that clock - but what about when there isn't a clock to look at? I think time slows down even more when that happens, because everyone's mental minute is different, and you don't have a clock _to _check. That's how today seemed to move. Thankfully, dinner is almost over. It's almost Personal. 

I was so nervous about breaking the atmosphere and sharing such a big piece of information (none of us are used to being in the spotlight) that I didn't go up and get food until a cafeteria lady nearly "freaked out" on me and threatened to call Iruka down here. It really sucks that even _they_ know who is here and for what disorder. Deidara is looking at me like I belong here, too, but he'll see, soon.

Picking at spaghetti and meatballs more than usual, I'm happy when the cafeteria cleaners come in, which is our signal to go to Personal. I calmly throw away the food and stack the tray ignoring the dirty look the cook from before is giving me and knowing that it'll probably be brought up during Counseling tomorrow. I'm bound to have hit one hundred by now; what more do they want?

I don't even wait the normal five to ten seconds after the door closes and the lock clicks before blurting out my news. "I know what happened to Neji."

Everyone had been preparing to do his own thing, except Deidara, who was giving me utmost attention. Gaara stopped trying to work the foosball table and Sasuke looked up from his corner. They didn't even need to ask what before I launched in, spilling everything that had threatened to bash the levee to little pieces.

"They _did_ have him on meds, and every time they tried to get him off, he'd go through withdrawal, and then he started having side-effects, so they took him off, and he got sick. He's hospitalized."

Silence. It's only to be expected, but the atmosphere starts clouding up again and my excitement falters quite a bit until I'm looking back at the floor. Deidara gives me a look, and I think I'm destined to talk about this with him more thoroughly tonight. Good thing I'm really not all that tired.

"So…he was…t-too addicted?" Gaara asks quietly, fiddling with one of the bars on the foosball table. "There's…n-no saving him?" There's a hidden note in those words, something like sorrow and disappointment, but I won't pressure it. Gaara is both very tough and very easy to get information about depending on which part of him you talk to.

"I don't know about that…but they said he…probably won't come back…" The change is sinking in again and I force back the panic, reserving my concerns until tonight when I'm sure Deidara will want to hear them. He always does.

"Well, what the hell, everyone is finding out a way to get their ass out of here," Sasuke mumbles, nestling back into his corner and putting himself into a brooding position. I barely ever agree with Sasuke, but for once, I think he's right. And that's the scary part.

_Quicken the a d a p t a t i o n_

* * *

A/N: I AM SO SORRY ABOUT HOW LONG THIS TOOK. I had major writers' block for a while, but I promised a friend of mine it'd be up tonight…so yeah…we're back on track with the plot. I can only hope you all think this chapter is better than the last one. 


	7. Quicken the Coaster

Quicken

By: Junsui Kegasu

A/N: Not stupid enough to wait a week this time!

Disclaimer: Have I ever owned anything?

* * *

Naruto has only been gone for a few days (Iruka's definition of "enough time to adjust") but it still seems so strange. Neji, at least, is still somewhere in this building, so we all just wait on that teetering edge of hope that he'll come back. Naruto's gone forever. Supposedly. That's our very logical assumption. 

In these days, my newest habit has been watching Sasuke. His attitude has also changed. If he was quiet before, he's silent now, and he doesn't complain and seem so emo anymore. Now he's just withdrawn. I'm not sure what to do about it, but I think Naruto confessed and he just doesn't know how to deal. I was lucky enough where Deidara didn't leave after confessing, and look where it got me. Maybe Sasuke and Naruto could've been like this.

"Like this" entails Deidara's newest phase: coming down here to talk, hugging me from behind, and eventually falling asleep, so I'm in his arms. The first time he did it, it was strange, the second time was nearly dreaded, but now I just feel like a human teddy bear. Slow – that's the only way to describe our screwed up little relationship, but at the same time, sometimes it can be so sweet.

Yeah, at heart, I guess I'm really just a hopeless romantic. Still, on those nights I have insomnia, it's actually a nice sensation, and on the nights when I don't, then hey, I get more pillows. Who'd complain? Honestly, he's only up on his part of the bed perhaps two times a week. Those are the days that nothing has happened. We don't have anything to talk about. You'd think there would be more of those in this place, but there really isn't.

Against my back, Deidara's chest heaves once and he sighs, warm air floating over my neck. I shiver; that's never happened before. It feels odd, but in a strange, 'I know it's going to happen again' way. At least he doesn't snore. That would be really bad. He shifts positions once, so he's snuggling into my mid-back (I don't _want_ to know how he thinks my spine is comfortable) and his ankle catches mine, linking them - another thing that's never happened before.

I'll never say it bothers me. But I _will_ say that I'm bothered by Gaara's leakage tonight. In his entire stay here, I've never heard Gaa-chan listening to music, and the song I'm hearing out of his headphones is rather disturbing. He knows about us, but he really doesn't care, which only adds to his mystery. One day I'll find out, hopefully, because I'm the type of person that it will bother for the rest of my life, even after I get out of here.

Anyways, as innocent as Gaa-chan is, him listening to Namie Amuro is still more than just a little disturbing, especially because it's one of those songs I'm pretty sure mainly the female population listens to. Then again, he can be a little weird – not to mention insomnia inducing for me on some nights. I can't sleep with music; people who can annoy me. Most of the time, leakage isn't what keeps me up, but there are some nights where my temperamental side wants to jab the off button of his CD player.

Today I'm not feeling particularly temperamental, just insomnia-ridden. I suppose that's good for Gaa-chan. Even if I were in one of those moods, Deidara is too comfortable to leave, so perhaps I'll drift off eventually. I hope so. Caffeine is a drug now, so they won't serve us anything caffeinated. Actually, they won't serve us anything but water. Either way, I'll have to deal with my exhaustion throughout the day if that's the case.

Naruto once told us that at the Rescue Center, they were much less strict about safety. They even gave them hot chocolate, plastic knives, and tin-foil food containers, all of which can be used as weapons. It all seems surreal to me, since I jumped straight from home to the hospital (the sterile, white hospital) and then to the shrink. I don't even remember what it's called. Perhaps Gaa-chan does, but I don't feel like disrupting him from his music, which has now changed to Miyavi, I do believe.

Why did I have to get stuck with the insane one?

* * *

The question reverberates in my mind the next morning at breakfast. It's one of those clichéd anime scenes with the frazzled, exhausted looking person sitting next to the adorable ball of energy. I honestly don't know what he's even _talking _about… 

"And then, then, then, he just pulled down the other guy's pants and yeah…and it looked _painful_ and it sounded kind of painful too, but I guess it wasn't 'cause he wasn't cryin' or nothin'…"

And on and on and on. That's Gaa-chan for you, however, and I'm about used to his randomness. I think he's talking about a movie, but I'm not sure. I've never heard of it. Then again, I've been here for six months and counting. Except, not counting for much longer, because as of March, I'm a free man. It's still only the beginning of January, but February is a short month.

Next to me, Deidara snickers behind his hand, obviously understanding what the _hell_ Gaa-chan is talking about before going back to his cereal. When the younger teen finally runs out of words, the silence is a little exaggerated, so I concentrate on the sounds of chewing around me. To a normal person, it's probably gross, but it's something – anything – and I can't stand silence.

I take that back; I _can_ stand silence, but only in Circle, because in Circle that silence has a purpose, and said purpose has yet to be broken. Once a member understands that if they talk, they'll be alone in doing so, because no one else does, it falls back into place. It's like one of those mainstream things that our society falls victim to daily, but this time, it could really cost you to be different.

Oh, but we're _all_ different. That's why we're here, isn't it? The cynical thought leaves me just as we're going to Circle. Trudging to the room, I pass the hallway where my bedroom is wistfully, almost turning to it and trying to go to sleep. It would feel very nice at this point, and my feet actually do shift their angle until Deidara appears next to me, concern engraved in those cool, blue eyes.

"You look dead, yeah," he whispers bluntly, leaning closer lest I fall asleep standing up. I can only imagine that to him, I look as fragile as ever tenfold. He knows I haven't been sleeping well, but normally it's not so obvious.

"M'fine," I whisper back, words slurring together in a barely-coherent grunt. Deidara seems to understand, though, and backs off, only to come back and turn me around to go into the right direction.

"Circle. Not bed, yeah." He sounds like he's been here his entire life. Somewhere in the depths of my mind that I swear actually belong here it's a little calming that he speaks our vernacular now. Perhaps it's the exhaustion, however, so I just let him practically steer me to Circle. He stops when we get to the room, of course, because it may arouse some form of suspicion, but I'm too tired to really care.

It's a sign that I really need to go back to bed (not want. Need) when I don't notice change upon walking into a room. I just sit down, and Deidara follows, giving Gaara's corner a look. After quite a bit (far too long) I look over, and at first, I think that Iruka has gotten a plant.

Except plants don't look like people, normally. Then again, people don't usually look like plants, either, and he does.

At a glance, he looks all green, but if you study his skin, you can tell that it's just a bunch of green-spectrum tattoos covering most of his arms. An intricate-looking vine circles his neck as well, which is actually rather beautiful to look at. His hair is short, green, and spiked in a thousand directions. I don't think anyone here has ADD, which is good, because this kid gelled his hair so much that it glistens under the artificial lighting.

In contrast to his bright hair, his face is actually quite well toned, and he isn't so thin as some of us here, so he's neither a druggie nor a food-disorder. Cutting is my guess, because his face sports quite a lot of piercing. Piercing like that just screams masochistic to me, though Sasuke sported none. Since his arms were so tattooed, you can't tell if any scars were under there, but there isn't anything fresh and angry.

I frown in thought, trying to figure out what this rebellious teen is in for. Iruka isn't here yet, either, but we keep silence anyways, just in case. There's always a just in case, but this new person is so intriguing…

He must've just gotten here, because he's still wearing jeans (the waistband of which seem to settle midway down his thighs) and his rings, bars, and balls, which decorate his eyebrows, nose, lip, and ear from what we can see. I bet he has a few on his tongue, too. He reminds me of someone straight out of my neighborhood, obnoxiously fake, gold jewelry included.

I'm going to be in hysterics when they tell him the clothing regulations.

Next to him, Gaa-chan's eyes keep wandering. I don't think _Gaa-chan's_ actually been to Circle, so it's certainly amusing to watch the little kid part of him freak out over something shiny. Deidara stifles a snicker when the door snaps open and Gaa-chan's gaze quickly shoots to the center, gazing at his feet and flexing his toes in his socks.

He can be so weird. I look to the front as well and can tell that Iruka looks somewhat frazzled. He clears his throat into one hand, smoothing down any stray strands of hair with the other. "Well, as I'm sure you've noticed, there's been another addition to our group," he starts, voice relatively calm. "Would you care to introduce yourself?"

Next to me, Deidara whispers nearly inaudibly, "At least he didn't include their name before telling them to introduce themselves, yeah."

"Don't really feel like it," says the green boy bitterly, inspecting a gold medallion around his neck. Iruka sighs and massages his temples.

"This is Zetsu," he said, gesturing. "He'll be with us for the time being. Now, Zetsu, if you would follow me, there are a few regulations we adhere to strictly…" he trails off, leaving the room. Sighing, the green boy stands up, chains clinking all around his legs. Gaa-chan looks fascinated.

When he leaves, we all give each other a look.

"I like him," Gaa-chan decides. "He's shiny."

* * *

He _was_ shiny is a better term for it come lunchtime. Deidara almost chokes on his sandwich when he comes in wearing a pair of sweatpants (green, of course), a black shirt, no gel, no jewelry, and only holes in his face. Now he's just kind of scary looking and if it were Gaa-chan present rather than Bokaira, he'd probably be heartbroken. 

"This really sucks," he comments, plopping down at the end of the table.

"Tell me about it," Bokaira sulks, picking tomatoes out of his sandwich. I really hope he doesn't start talking about the cracks in the ceiling again. That might scare Zetsu off.

"How do you all live like this? There ain't nothin' to do…"

No one can respond to that, because it's really something inexplicable, our plan, and he'll figure it out soon enough. "Just keep your mouth shut, yeah," Deidara suggests with a mouthful of ham.

Amongst us all, Sasuke just eats his sandwich silently. One would think he might speak up, or even add an "hn," but he's been awfully quiet. It's unnerving, really, and I think I might talk to him about it in Personal. Maybe.

"Why should I keep my mouth shut? Keepin' my mouth shut got me outta Juvie and into _this_ joint," Zetsu complains, his own sandwich untouched. There's silence again; Naruto wasn't even in Juvie. In this city, you have to be pretty bad to get there.

When no one responds to his little outburst, the green boy sighs. "Man, I need a smoke…"

Anyone who smoked probably agrees. Anyone who didn't does too. We can't exactly say much until Personal, even finding out why he got here, so all we know is that he smoked and that he would've gone to Juvie had he spoken up in court. He can't be here for anger management, because if you're that bad to go to Juvie, they stick you in Solitary so you really don't hurt anyone.

When Zetsu speaks for the third time, it's kind of obvious he's one of those who can't stand any kind of silence. That might be a problem. "What're y'all in here for, anyways? Stabbin' your folks? Suicide?"

Bokaira stands up rather abruptly, and I look quickly for signs of Shukaku. Finding none, I'm relieved, because the angry boy really shouldn't scare off Zetsu so early. "You'll find out soon enough," he says enigmatically before walking over to throw out half his sandwich. I'm rather envious. I have to eat at least three-quarters of mine.

"The hell's _that_ s'posed to mean?" he mutters before standing up to try to do the same. The lunch lady looks at the barely-touched sandwich and shakes her head, sending him back to the table. "_Fuck,"_ he mutters, biting into the sandwich.

"You can get away with that tomorrow," Bokaira informs him, pleased. "Then she'll know you're not anorexic."

"Brat, do I _look_ anorexic to you?" he snaps, leaning on his elbow and sighing. Obviously he's angry, but Bokaira can't seem to tell, or he just doesn't care.

"Not really, but that doesn't really matter," he tells him, sipping at a cup of water. Zetsu merely glares and leaves it at that.

"When do I figure out what's going on around here?"

Soon enough, I think. Soon enough.

* * *

It's kind of funny how when I say "soon enough" the entire day slows to a crawl. You would think I'd stop doing it, but I'm good at repeating the same mistakes. It's like running intervals after doing lunges; those two minutes of running at a time seem to take an excruciatingly infinite amount of time, but before you know it, you're done. 

"All right, what the hell is going on here?" Zetsu cries before the door even shuts completely.

…Then again, after you did the lunges and ran the intervals, there were always the abdominal muscle exercises. Just seven six-inches, nineties, flutter kicks, and push-ups seemed to be a thousand. I miss running; really, I do.

"Quiet down," Shukaku snaps, massaging his forehead.

"No, I want to know what's going _on_ here! You're all crazy!" he screeches. "This place is _horrible…_they expect us to just sit there and let them make an experiment out of you!"

"That's what a _shrink_ does," the normally shy redhead snaps. There's a flash of something vividly red beneath his fringe before the equally bright locks of hair cover it again. I think I'm seeing things. "It's not like we enjoy it."

"Well, you sure as hell don't protest!"

"Look," Deidara starts. "My birthday isn't 'till October, yeah. I plan on getting my ass out of here before then, yeah."

"You mean we only stay 'till our birthday?" Zetsu asked, seemingly bewildered. Then he breaks out into a grin, which quickly turns into a grimace. "I have to wait until _May?_" The statements appear to contradict each other, but no one questions it.

"No," I say, trying to keep my voice calm and seem like I'm nonchalant about the whole thing. "He turns eighteen in October. I turn eighteen in March. They can't legally hold you here after you reach that point."

All hope disappears from the green boy's face and I feel a little bad, but it needed to be said. I continue, hoping to not diminish him so much. "Keeping quiet is the easiest thing to do. Anything you say those counselors can twist to your advantage. You're right in saying Juvie would be better, but none of us did anything to get into Juvie."

He smirks a scary little fanged grin as if he's just discovered the answer to life. "Oh, I did. And damn, I'd do anything for it again."

Deidara sighs, catching on to my subliminal message. "Well, what _did_ you do, yeah?" he tries, leaning against the wall.

Zetsu merely shrugs nonchalantly. "Sold drugs. Mostly to little kids who wanted it, but hell, if they want it, I ain't stoppin' 'em."

"…So how does that put you in a shrink, yeah?" Deidara asks, confused. "You'd go to jail for that – screw Juvie, yeah…"

"Insanity runs in the family. According to tests I never knew they did, I'm bipolar and I did the drugs too, so Ma stuck me in here 'cause it's way cheaper."

I'm wondering why it would cost money to go to Juvie or State Prison for that matter, but I don't voice my concern. "I see," is all I say.

"So what're all _you_ in here for?" he asks, his tone the same as it was in lunch. We go around the room, answering as calmly as possible.

"Anorexia."

"Pyromaniac."

"I don't know and I don't give a fuck."

"…Cutting."

Zetsu gives Gaara a funny look. "You acted different in lunch. What the hell are you in for?"

"Multiple personality disorder," I tell him. Zetsu seems like the kind to get angry real quick if he doesn't get answers, and I don't feel like dealing with someone that violent. I knew Naruto longer so that was pretty much okay.

"You all are _freaks,_" he mutters. "Typical. I got stuck in a real nuthouse."

Yeah, I guess he did, I think cynically. He got stuck with us. All I can hope is that Zetsu likes roller coasters and soap operas, because that's what life is over here. If he's lucky, he'll get sent to Juvie eventually, because by the looks of it, he's not badly bipolar nor is he at high risk for dying because of drug addiction. We've seen both extremes here, after all.

One can only hope.

I remember after quite a bit that I never talked to Sasuke, but as everyone breaks up to do our own thing (we have nothing more to talk about. We've practically given up hope for Neji, though he's still in the back of our minds, and Naruto is happy a free man) I have my chance. He hasn't moved from his corner and he seemed rather reluctant to talk to Zetsu. I think he only spoke up because it's part of our pact to tell people what's going on.

Walking over as discreetly as possible, I glance over my shoulder. Deidara is playing a feeble game of foosball with Shukaku, who seems to be attempting to kill the machine. Zetsu is sulking around, observing and forming conclusions, probably biased ones. Stopping about three feet in front of the dark-haired boy, I wait for acknowledgement.

He looks up eventually, but as soon as he sees me, his eyes dart back to his knees. "What do you want?"

I hate playing with people's minds, so I get right to the point. "Naruto told you, didn't he?"

"What the hell are you talking about; Naruto said nothing," he tells me snappily. Too quick, Sasuke.

"He told you," I repeat slowly, "didn't he?"

"Told me what?" he challenges, voice strong. He's good; I can barely detect the tremor he's trying to hide. It's a shame whispers don't do well for that. This is where I might have to stop, though; if he really _doesn't_ know, then that betrays Naruto. No, I'll have to leave this for another day. For all I know, he's nervous about something else.

"Never mind," I mutter, feeling stupid. "You know what I'm talking about."

Sasuke doesn't say anything, and I'm pushed a little closer to my original conclusion. What are we going to do about this?

* * *

As I should've pictured, two hours after "lights out" this is the topic eating away at my thoughts. Sasuke is growing blatantly more distant and even though I'm really not fond of him, I feel like it's my responsibility (like everything else) to make sure the counselors don't notice it. If they notice it, we'll have lost another of our group, and I don't think I could bear that. 

It seems like everything has just been twisted upside down on the track, and Neji wasn't strapped in tight enough, so he fell. The firemen saved Naruto, but the rest of us are still clinging as tightly as possible to the guardrail. Sasuke is slipping, but we can barely offer an arm to save him without falling ourselves. It's so confusing.

"Hey," Deidara's voice in my ear stops my thoughts. He's behind me again, holding me against his chest protectively. "What're you thinking about, yeah?"

Oh, if I could tell you, I would, but I promised Naruto. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing, yeah, 'cause it's been keeping you up lately. Don't think I haven't noticed, yeah," he retorts with an edge of bitterness to his voice. I feel a cold panic wash over me.

"Look, it's really – "

"No, yeah! It's not nothing; you're always in control, yeah, but this morning you had no clue where we were going, yeah!" His outburst scares me, and then he sighs. "Whatever, yeah. I probably don't want to know." With that comment, he turns his back to me.

I think I would've preferred him molesting me.

_Quicken the c o a s t e r_

* * *

A/N: (dodges books) DON'T KILL ME. AT LEAST I UPDATED. There are parts of this a little iffy to me, but it's been over a month…so yeah…. Oh, and Volume Thirty-Two should be up soon…watch out for it. 


	8. Quicken the Anguish

Quicken

By: Junsui Kegasu

A/N: Inspiration struck me in the shower!

Disclaimer: I still own nothing. Can I pretend?

* * *

Unless you're sick, to wake up in the morning feeling that horriblesensation in your stomach is quite uncomfortable. You're too groggy to remember what could've caused it, and then you wonder if it's guilt, anger, sadness, or actual illness. It takes a few moments for me to figure it out, and when it does, the feeling only surges. 

I'm so _fucking_ stupid…

Still chastising myself, I stand up, looking to the top bunk in mild hope, only to find it empty. It's no surprise; I wouldn't want to be with me at this point either. He blew up so quick that I could hardly defend myself, but still…

I knew there was a reason I avoided relationships for so long.

I'm not sure, but I think it might be about the time for Circle. Like a small child, I open the door a fraction of an inch and peer out into the hallway. This is practically fruitless as this room is so deep down the hallway, you can hardly tell if people are passing it, but there aren't any voices, either. They must all be in the cafeteria. I'm not going down to Circle until I absolutely have to.

Plopping back onto the bed, I sigh, somewhat defeated. I knew something like this couldn't last too long. I don't like telling people things, and Deidara obviously doesn't like things being kept from him. It's a shame I can't really do much to change how I am, because I didn't think my recent insomnia was as much of a problem as he does. I don't get it in the slightest.

Love is complicated, they say, but this isn't love. It's rather far from it, really. It's "like," if I remember correctly, but I don't think anyone has ever said that "like" relationships were complicated. Maybe it's because they were never meant to last.

Stop thinking like that, Sasori. Even though this probably won't last after I escape from here (though maybe it will; I don't know) I think that this is still kind of pathetic. But, at the same time, is it? Deidara has been here since late November, so that makes nearly a month and a half – definitely the longest relationship I've taken part in, and I'm sure Deidara too.

It's all so perplexing. Half of me would like to think that he would be happier without worrying like he seems to do, but the other half of me would feel so awkward to break it off. He was the one who proclaimed liking me, so it might hurt him, too. Apart from that being both selfish and selfless, the counselors would notice and try to get involved. That's what we've been trying to prevent from happening since we got here.

After a few more moments of contemplation, my internal clock (as screwed up by emotions as it can be) urges me to trudge down to Circle. I change clothing quickly and do so, hoping that I'm alone for the entire journey of just over a minute, depending on your rate of speed. I tend to drag it out as long as possible, because there's nothing too intimidating about the cool linoleum except that it's so albino.

Shockingly, I'm the last one to Circle today. I guess that aforementioned internal clock is off today. Another thing: people aren't sitting where they normally are. I look around quickly to find anyone new, but there's no one. Gaa-chan is in his corner, next to Deidara, where Zetsu sat yesterday. Instead, Zetsu has Deidara's place and Sasuke took my corner.

This is almost mind-blowing.

I gingerly take the seat in between Zetsu and Sasuke, trying to get Deidara to catch my eye. He won't look at me though, and that hurts more than it should. I don't know if he's angry, regretful, or hurt more than I am at this point, and that's what scares me. I need to know what's going on, because I hate suspense. I could never read mystery fiction, no matter how hard I tried, and though this isn't all that similar to a Mary Higgins Clark book, the suspense is still killing me.

Iruka chatters on about everything and nothing, current events, and news of our ward. The only thing that strikes my attention is that Gaara's birthday is in ten days. Gaa-chan told me that his birthday is on the nineteenth, which makes today the ninth. This time, I vow to keep track, though it is very, very difficult at times. It's just too monotonous to remember things like that. Everything seems too trivial.

He continues by reading an article in the paper about how a hazardous cloud of smoke threatened the air of Sandusky County yesterday. I almost look around to search for Neji's longing gaze. I know that if anything, he would've wanted to inhale the "sweet" toxins of chemical reactions. Instead, I look to Zetsu, who doesn't seem like he really cares. Then again, he isn't so far buried as Neji was. Still is.

The next hour passes in the same fashion before he goes on to try and teach us a lesson about being truthful with ourselves. That's the first step to healing, apparently, but I don't think it's all that crucial. I think we all know why we're here (and I hate when they ask you, "Do you know why you're here?" because it's rather rhetorical) and that it's dangerous. The negative factor is that we don't care. Can Iruka notice this?

Sometimes, I wonder.

Finally the discussion turns on how friends and even stronger relationships can both help and hurt your mental health. Wow, did _you_ not know that people are influential? This might actually be interesting if it were on a higher level, but instead it's the same thing you would hear if you were in a fourth grade health class. The same mantras included.

Two more months…

* * *

When I get to lunch, I have to wonder if I'll even last that long. Deidara is sitting all the way on the far side of the table, away from me, and I'm no clingy little girl. I get the hint. It doesn't mean I like the fact that the _order_ is so _disturbed_ at the moment, but I get it. 

He can stop any time now. I'm getting rather annoyed, though I guess he's the one who has a right to be annoyed with me, but this is immature, unnerving, and especially _obvious._ Won't someone realize something is _wrong?_ Something is out of the ordinary; that makes it wrong. I don't think they can tell. Some of me thinks that may be a good thing, but a lot of me is very grateful that they're either unobservant or respectful.

I keep trying to catch his eye, all the way across the table, but he has it planned out so the eye closest to me is the one covered by that draping of bleach-blonde hair and the other one is determinedly away from me. It's more frustrating than painful, because I want to catch his attention, and just twenty-four hours ago it could easily been done with a twitch of a glimpse. Now I'm invisible.

Or maybe I'm so thin to him that he doesn't _want_ to see me. Oh, I see your game, Dei. I see it perfectly, but it isn't going to work. I'm not head-over-heels in love withhim likehe may think; there's no way that I'm so desperate to change just for the sake of a "like" relationship. Or maybehe's not thinking that. I'm just so _assumptive_ sometimes. I think I should change it because it's certainly more imperfect than anything else, but for now, I won't worry about it.

Not while I'm still angry at Dei. I have no real reason to be angry other than the vain excuse thathe won't even take a glance in my direction, but I am. I don't feel like this often; usually I can keep emotions reasonable, which rules out anger, immense depression, and exuberance for the most part, but he seems to change things in me. He's like a key ingredient of a cake that's making me swell and take form.

_Only to be swallowed by Life once I exit the oven._

I'm afraid to change like that, for that reason. I don't want to go out there and be taken advantage of, or have to face the most gruesome side of this city (and all cities have one.) I figured that if I go out there the same way I came in, I'll still be used to everything and everything will then be fine. A small part of me keeps telling me that it's possible, but I've learned. It was like an apocalyptic revelation.

I can't really stay at home for long, because I know it's just going to weigh on not just me, but my parents as well, and the tension will be too bad. No, I'll go back, but merely to get packed and move out. And yet, that would also be awkward. I don't know anymore. This is why I dislike looking to the future; it always ends up scaring me. Like, am I considered a drop out now? I won't leave here until I'm eighteen. I don't know. I don't know anymore.

And that's the frightening part. As much as I hate this place, it's security. I can't leave yet, and even in March, it's an anchor. It's been a constant for so long that such a large change might push me off the edge again (and oh, how we can't have that!) I don't want to have to go through it alone. I'm weak for saying it, but until Dei, I never thought about life after this. I only started because he'll still be here when I'm gone. I had to think about it.

Knowing that he was here was like a constant I could cling to; relief in a vast sea of unexplored territory (or rather, previously explored, but uncharted.) Now that he's so mad at me, it's like my buoy just sunk into the dark, cold Pacific and I'll just be another amidst the crowd with those sad, longing eyes that show he missed out on something big. He screwed up his life big time.

I'm really being overdramatic right now. Is lunch over yet?

* * *

I dread Personal. This is such a new thing that it's barely settled into me, but I dread it today because I can be free so far as the others know, but I can't because I'll be in contact with Dei. I don't know what to say. Apologies might not be accepted, but ignoring the whole thing might just be insult to injury. I can't see that well into his head. I can read his eyes, but he won't look at me. 

_Close the curtains – it's getting far too bright out there!_

Numbly, I walk behind the group from dinner to Personal, rambling thoughts running through my head. I wish I could rewind things and try to fix them, but we all know the VCR of Life has long lost its rewind button, and the remote control is part of the rotation of our planet. The whole while, my eyes are glued to the back of his head, hoping that maybe he has eyes in the back of his head. Teachers seem to.

Of course, Dei doesn't (he's just an average teen, after all) nor does he turn around. What are we going to do during Personal? What are we going to talk about? Nothing big is going on, so there's really no point in talking… we'll just have free time. And free time means more time I have to avoid him.

When we sit, this time it's me making sure there's a lot of space between Dei and I, shooting him an anxious look across the room. It's ignored. Zetsu starts everything off, with a growl, leaning against the wall.

"What the _hell_ do you guys normally do around here? If this is seriously every day, I'm pushing my ass through the bars on these windows."

If Naruto were here, perhaps he'd have said something. If last night hadn't happened, perhaps Dei or I would say something. But we just let him ramble, because Naruto isn't here and Dei and I aren't on speaking terms, but it's affecting us as people, too. It's something to fill the silence, to nod to or agree with or just sigh at depending. I guess Zetsu was a good addition here, for us. Not for him, but for us.

When Zetsu stops talking, we all kind of shift around to whatever it is we want to do. I consider talking to Sasuke again, but he seems either firmly rooted in denial or genuinely ignorant to Naruto's affections. As much as I want to march up and tell him that I know, both to get rid of my boredom and curiosity, it seems like an insult to Naruto's memory to blow his cover if he hasn't yet. I can't risk it, though a foreboding feeling is churning its way through my stomach.

To keep my mind off both Sasuke and Dei, I watch Gaara. I don't think he's Gaa-chan right now because he's not obnoxious. He's just sitting there smiling at nothing. If I knew the boy better I'd say he's having a conversation with himself, but I can't tell. Maybe he's just content at this point (lucky, lucky child.) His birthday's coming up. I don't know what it marks for him, but it's coming up. What will our overseers say to this holiday?

Worrying about the bouncy-angry-morose redhead takes my mind off many things, and I'm grateful he's here. We all play a key role in something to affect everyone else, and maybe that's why so much turbulence is going on. Neji was always like a rock that we could talk to in Personal, though he wouldn't say much, and Naruto was like a relief factor. With them gone, things have just… tightened up. That's all; we just need to adapt a little bit more. Then everything will be okay.

_Liar, liar – pants on fire!_

* * *

I'm tired. Exanimate is more like it, but whatever you want to call it, I want to sleep. And by sleep, I don't mean lie-awake-thinking-about-Dei-because-he's-right above-you but _sleep_-sleep. It's kind of a good thing I feel like this, because at this point of the day, I'm not ready to accept an apology. In fact, I don't think I will, because he's sure caused me Hell today, and I don't really want to stand for it another day. So I'll just keep saying that this does not affect me. 

Climbing into bed, I don't even bother to look at the bottom of the bunk above me to see if it's curved under Dei's weight. I don't want to know right now and I hope he's still in the shower so by the time he gets out I'll be asleep. My eyelids are heavy, so if he doesn't get back soon, I'll be asleep. _Perfect._

"Hey."

…Except, nothing is ever perfect. I ignore the voice, snuggling into my pillow.

"You never sleep like that, yeah," comes the voice again, slightly annoyed.

I sigh, rolling over and opening my eyes. I won't speak to him. I'm afraid I'll blow up or say things I don't want to say, so instead I just keep quiet. He takes my silence for something awkward ('_Good,_' some part of my mind tells me nastily) and fidgets, sighing.

"Look, I just want to apolo-"

"Not yet, Dei," I say abruptly. "Don't talk about this now. I want to sleep." It's cruel and snappish, but… I can't explain it, but I don't feel like dealing with it right now. I want to sleep. It's _selfish,_ but I'm not ready for him yet.

I think I missed a chance.

Dei gets the hint and dejectedly crawls back up to his bunk, silent the whole time. The darkness acts as a blinding blanket, and I'm glad, because I can't see the hurt I know is in his eyes. It'll be luck if I can sleep _now,_ but I'll keep trying. I always try. I really, really do…

With these thoughts, my eyelids are closing again, a lump in my throat beginning to build up and then dissolve as the protective skin gets heavier and heavier. I won't deal with this. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe… maybe some other time; just not now. I don't want to forgive. I don't want to get better. I don't want to figure anything out – I just want to sleep. And sleep, I do.

_Quicken the a n g u i s h_

* * *

HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY, STAKEH! Oh, this is another filler-ish chapter because it's the bridge between two somethings and I had to keep it short because we really don't need anymore of Sasori's angst… I'm very displeased with the ending, so… yeah. Don't expect another chapter for a while because I'm going on vacation and planning on posting other ongoing stuff so I can focus on a variety of things and not get stuck so easily. TTFN! 


	9. Quicken the Perpetual Nihility

Quicken

By: Junsui Kegasu

A/N: I've had on-and-off inspiration for this of late, so I figured I'd write it… oh, and as a random note, though I said I'd be posting other things, one of my main inspirations (though it pains me to do this) has been delayed until I get into high school, for the sole sake of having a correct grasp of the setting. With that said, onwards!

Disclaimer: Hm. I think it's safe to say I own Gaa-chan. That's about it. (hugs Gaa-chan)

* * *

The last time I checked, _Dei_, longing glances are supposed to be a one-sided thing. In this case, it's _my_ side of the argument, and here he is with those big, blue pools giving me the look of a starved puppy. Of course, to make no sense, I've been doing the same to him (without the puppy aspect, thank you very much) and this is the first time I've caught him with the same look. What does this mean? I'll tell you: we're too cowardly to apologize to each other, so we'll keep hoping the other one will. 

Except I don't think it works that way. I think in a relationship, there's a purpose to one person being emotionally stronger than the other. It doesn't work on equal terms, and maybe that's why opposites attract. I never got that phrase until now, seeing as opposites would generally hate each other since hatred is spawned off of disagreement of belief. That's why our relationship is absurd to begin with; being in the place we are categorizes us both as emotionally weak to begin with. Whether or not it's true I really don't know. I don't really have much of a standard of comparison.

I think he's caught me now, because he's looking back at his French toast sticks intently, as if the secret to life is hidden in the shine of the syrup. Breakfasts are cheap in this place, so this is the same stuff commonly found back in elementary schools. I always hated cafeteria food… Why did I come out here, again? I couldn't stand being in there with my thoughts, with my memories, with the way the bed felt so empty as it had when I woke up.

As a matter of fact, my curtness towards Dei last night didn't plague me one bit. I slept through the entire night and it felt very, very nice. But now that I'm awake, it's kind of nagging at me. I completely blew a chance to end the awkward aftermath of an argument and he's hurt about it. And since I still feel awkward about the whole thing, I'm… not hurt (never, never hurt) but indescribable. I think I'll just have to overcome pride or fear or _whatever_ it is that's keeping me from saying anything and apologize on the way to Circle. I'm not spending another three hours in this atmosphere.

With my mind made up and breakfast over, everyone stands up and robotically takes their plates to the trash. As usual, the monitor gives me a dirty look because I didn't touch my breakfast at all, but since breakfast isn't required even for anorexics, she can't say a word to me. I relish the freedom even more this time. I don't know why, but it always feels good to do something they don't want me to do here. I guess sleeping put me in a good mood this morning.

Normally, we all walk in a large group without a designated leader or designated fallout. Today, Deidara hangs back, staring at the white tile. This is my second chance and I don't think I'll waste it this time. Temporary satisfaction and relief can only do so much for one's conscience, and it's probably weighing even more heavily on his than my own. Tactfully (never, never obviously) I slow my pace so I'm closer to him, and only when the farthest back person, Sasuke, is for the most part far away do I deliberately move a little closer.

We slow a little more, inching through the hallway until Sasuke's spikes (probably bed-head, because we aren't allowed to use hair products) can no longer be distinguished well and look softer. Then we stop completely. During this time, I kept my eyes glued to my feet, though I've long-since memorized the pattern skin, bone, and nail. Now I look up, hardening my eyes as to hide my insecurity.

"Look –"

"Don't, yeah."

For a moment, I'm startled. Is he doing the same thing I did to him last night? Is he… is he angrier now? The questions run by, each more ridiculous than the last, and even though it's been less than three seconds it seems like months, and then years, and then…

"I should be the one apologizing anyways, yeah," he continues, his gaze ascending just barely, just noticeably. "For being such a snoop."

And then all at once, there's nothing I can say, nothing I can even _think_ of to say. Nothing at all: perpetual nihility. I fear that he'll take my silence as a rejection, but unlike all those clichéd romance novels, he seems to understand. He always understands, whether my expression or such betrays it or not, and I'm glad.

"I'm sorry," I mumble, just because I _have_ to say something, even if it doesn't make sense. "I blew you off last night."

"Nah," he looks up fully and smiles crookedly. "I thought about it, yeah, and I had gotten mad at you for not sleeping, so if you wanted to sleep, I shouldn't have even bugged you, yeah."

I open my mouth to say something humbling, but he interjects.

"I wasn't even really… mad, yeah. It was… confusing. I mean, I was mad, yeah, but not at you. More at me, yeah, because I couldn't help you."

Something cold and warm and liquid but solid runs through me all at once, and for the second time in just as many minutes, I'm at a loss for words or thoughts. I don't know what I can say to that, because now that I'm assured someone really cares and really worries about something other than my perfection, how can I do anything at all? It would be so selfish, so _horrible_ to go on and hurt myself, but I'm not enough for anything, for anyone… except him. And it almost means the whole world.

Almost.

Our eyes lock, gray meeting blue, and we just stay like that for a while, content to be that way forever. The warm contact is only broken by footsteps, echoing loudly off the tile. Simultaneously we look, silver hair alerting us to Kakashi instantly.

"Hey! Aren't you two supposed to be somewhere?"

I dislike Kakashi for the sole reason that when I need him to intervene, he doesn't, and when I need him to be somewhere else, he isn't. Glowering as much as I can, I turn and walk in the direction of Circle, Dei following me. It doesn't strike me until we're at the doors that us coming in like this, late and together, might strike some form of suspicion. Then I remember that no one has a clue of what we're up to, so I push open the door and we walk in.

For once, the stares don't bother me. For once, I don't care what they think.

* * *

Personal that evening is different. Zetsu found out he's getting moved to Juvie via his counselor today, and he'll probably leave sometime tomorrow. This isn't much of a loss considering that Zetsu's only been here for a short time and I never grew to like him much. He reminds me too much of my neighborhood. For all I know, he's _part_ of my neighborhood. 

Zetsu isn't the thing that's really bothering me; Sasuke is (again.) He always seems to bother me these days, especially after Naruto. It seems that Naruto's secret hit him hard if he ever told him, and though my instinct flares with suspicion that he knows and it's doing things to him, he denies it. My instinct has been wrong before, so I don't push, but tonight struggle is written all over his face, whether he's given up hiding it or if it's a new problem.

I want to talk to him about it (like normal) but I don't want to arouse anything by doing so frankly. Deidara's with me again and we're up against the same wall and near enough to each other where he has reached down and grabbed my hand. When he grabbed it, something shot through me, something warm and electric. I liked it, but the electricity has worn off and now only a pulsing remains, though I think that's my own heart.

Our clasped hands, hidden from view, are like a symbol of this relationship. I read somewhere that holding hands meant something pure, something real, and now I think I know what that means. It gives me a fuzzy feeling that I thought was only possible in cheesy romances, but it's also distracting. I don't know what to do about Sasuke. I keep thinking I can just talk to him, but I really can't, because I can't risk it no matter what. However, the comfort from Deidara's hand (who knew one could have hands so small?) will let me think about later. Maybe tomorrow.

Suddenly Deidara squeezes my hand and I snap out of my thoughts, looking at him, but he's not looking at me. Following his gaze, I settle on Gaa-chan who's… staring at us. I bite my lip and give him a _look,_ because he looks ready to ask a question that'll blow our cover. To that, he blinks and turns back around, annoying Zetsu with whatever's going on in his life at this point in time. If this kid can keep a secret until his birthday, at least, he's getting one good present from me.

Gaa-chan has been out more often than any of the other personalities. His counselor, from what I've overheard just by having sensitive ears, is both confused and proud that he's finally found a start. He's confused because he can't figure out why the dominating personality wouldn't be Gaara himself, but I'm sure even Gaa-chan, who could talk to anyone about anything as long as he's bribed, hasn't explained his family history, so he's missing pieces. Of us all, Gaara partakes the least in any of the Conspiracy. Since he has all those people at once, he's kind of forgetful and Gaa-chan loves to talk.

When we hear the lock unclick from the door, we stand up as one and move towards the door, filtering down the hall and into our own rooms. Sasuke and Zetsu leave us first, and then Gaa-chan runs ahead to "beat us to the room," so once again, we're alone.

"Hey," Dei whispers, "What's up with you, yeah? You seem kind of… troubled, yeah."

I sigh, and really, really hope he won't get mad this time. "It's Sasuke… but it's about something I kind of promised I wouldn't tell anyone…"

After a pause in which my heart beats loudly, he smiles weakly. "That's okay, yeah," he says kind of briskly. "All right, yeah. Just wanted to know."

The briskness kind of… bothers me, but really, what can I do? We make it into the room, quickly change into pajamas and climb into bed. Dei doesn't waste time getting up to his bunk and then coming down; tonight he just climbs in bed with me. It seems… I don't know, weird. It's like something you wouldn't imagine unless you were married. The feeling quickly subsides when Deidara wraps his arms around me. I turn and hug him back, my face against his chest. I can hear his heart… I can _feel_ his heart. Its rhythm makes my own heart flutter, and then slowly, it lulls me.

We fall asleep in each other's arms that night.

* * *

If the windows weren't barred in this place and the weather wasn't so cold, I think I would've woken up with birds chirping and sunlight flitting across my face, but it didn't happen. I did wake so happily, however, that if Kisame were here, he'd tell me that I had gotten laid last night. I definitely didn't go _that_ far, but being held is quite possibly the most comfortable feeling one can ever experience, especially if a heartbeat is involved. 

Though I woke up alone in bed, it doesn't bother me much at all because I can just feel that it's kind of late anyhow. I might have to compose myself as to not walk out smiling. If I do that, they might suspect. I stop, realizing I'm beginning so sound an awful lot like Bokaira and Gaara do. Bokaira's just a depressed, sensitive, paranoid part of Gaara – the part the abuse really seemed to form. Gaara's paranoid _because_ of his dad. Maybe there's nothing to fear in smiling… but I won't risk it.

I continue to breakfast with a happier note in my walk in replace of the smile. When I sit down, I feel like the silver spot on a gray quilt. It's just a bit uncomfortable, but I get over that very quickly when Deidara slides his hand into mine under the table. Then, I could feel like a flashlight in darkness without caring a single bit. I'm in such a good mood that I even pick at my pancakes (without butter and syrup) a little more than usual, even if they're either undercooked or overcooked and leave a nasty film on the roof of my mouth.

The sugar-sweet moment continues for quite a while, until Zetsu comes out. He's still compliant to our dress code, so I guess he's not leaving right away. The only thing different with him is that the normally stoic scowl across his face is now a puzzled frown. Everyone else notices, too, and he gets the table's undivided attention as he sits down.

"My room-mate's acting weird," he says. A feeling of dread engulfs me nearly instantly, and Deidara's hand is suddenly far too warm and it's so cold I'm burning. Sasuke did something. Sasuke did something "_weird._"

"What kind of weird?" Shukaku asks in a bored tone, attempting to stab his pancakes with the spoon given to him.

"Is there any kind?" Zetsu snaps. "He's under his covers, but he's sitting up and mumbling to himself and he acts like I'm not there."

"He's never done that before, yeah?" Deidara asks carefully. "Maybe he just had a nightmare or something…"

Yeah. A nightmare. I really wish I could be that unaware of my surroundings, but the little part of me that screamed to tell Sasuke that I knew about what Naruto said to him is numbed with shock. The rest of me, the parts that were so scared to betray Naruto's word, has a sense of cold dread and suddenly Deidara's hand is too warm, the air around me too cold.

Even so, I cannot betray Naruto. I just can't. It could be anything – anything in the world from nightmare to sorrow. I try to convince myself that's what it is. It's nothing - nothing at all. I can only barely convince myself of this lie, being as frank as I am, and the dread lingers like frostbite soaked in hot water. No one else seems to have anything to say and we all go back to our breakfast, a little uneasily. But I can't eat anything now. What I _have_ eaten is churning in my stomach, churning in dread and guilt.

Sasuke, you better be okay.

* * *

Like a class, Iruka takes attendance every day in Circle. By now he can do it mentally, so when his own tired eyes scan the room, they show surprise at the lack of a person. Quickly he goes back to figure out which one of us it is, and then, amongst the silence and my guilt, he asks, "Has anyone seen Sasuke?" 

Zetsu almost opens his mouth to talk, but simultaneously Shukaku and I give him a _look_ and he shuts up. If it really is nothing, they're both thinking, Iruka doesn't need to be bothered with it. I'm still trying to immerse myself in that lie, so I have to play along, even though for once I'm screaming at Iruka to go check out his room. Make sure he's okay. He didn't do anything. He _can't_ do anything.

This idea gives me satisfaction for a little bit before I remember with horror Gaara and his nails. But they've been trimming Sasuke's since Gaara's incident… haven't they? There's no way… there can't be. It's impossible. I'll entertain that thought for a while: it's impossible. Many things are impossible… are improbable… are the result of a sick kind of fear.

I hope that this is one of them.

Iruka seems suspicious but goes on with the lesson as usual. During the current event of the day (something about a severe storm that attacked Texas) Kakashi comes running in and whispers something into Iruka's ear. His eyes get all wide and he quickly stands up and leaves Kakashi with us. The silver-haired man seems miffed and turns to us to tell us to stay put before leaving.

Dei's giving me a pointed look now, and I have to look away. I promised. We don't know what's going on yet. It could be nothing – it could be everything. My conscience, emphasized by blue fire from the chair next to me, fights with my morals as whether or not to tell. This could be serious; shouldn't I tell something like this? No… no, it's nothing. He can't have done anything. To assure myself, I look at Gaa-chan's nails, still kept to less than a stub. Less than a stub can't hurt anyone.

I feel sick when something in me says with grim satisfaction, _keep on believing that._

Everyone splits up eventually, going into separate corners or just anywhere. I went to the far side of the room so I could deal with myself alone, but I don't think Dei will stand for it. He's followed me wherever I went, and I'm trying to make my isolation inconspicuous. Finally, with me huddled into a corner, he crouches down, leaning his weight on his hands, and stares me straight in the eye.

"You know what's going on, yeah."

The sentence is said almost casually, with barely an edge of suspicion or anger or hurt… but it still cuts through me like a butcher's knife. What can I do? Now there are two things to fight over: my promise versus Sasuke's safety and my relationship versus my promise. Why, oh why, does that two syllable, seven-word _thing_ have to be so important and argumentative?

"Dei… look, I _can't._ I promised!"

"Promised who, yeah?" He demands, the edge sharper than before. To this, I wince before considering my options. The fact that I said it was Naruto is irrelevant… I think. I hope. Maybe I can kill two birds with one stone. If Dei knows that I promised Naruto I wouldn't tell, perhaps his curiosity will be fed, and I'll have a bit of it off my chest.

"Sasori, who did you promise that you won't tell anyone a thing, yeah?"

"Naruto," I mumble, looking at my knees, pulled high to my chest. "I promised him before he left."

"Well obviously," he states bluntly and sarcastically. "You can't exactly promise him after he's gone, yeah. You told me last night it had to do with Sasuke, and this is just a wild guess, yeah, but did Naruto have a bit of a crush?"

My heart freezes in my chest. Can I tell him? He knows… _he knows…_I can tell him. No, no, I can't tell him the whole thing. I stay silent, even though I know that silence only means yes. Silence always means yes.

"Why is this relevant, yeah?"

I won't tell. I promised. "I can't."

"Bullshit, yeah! He's not bodily restraining you, so tell me, dammit!"

Before I can answer him, though he sounds so awfully angry I don't think I'd want to anyways, Iruka comes back in, face distressed. Everyone turns and looks at him, even Shukaku baring the eyes of a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. There's a struggle, even within myself, to just boom out with all the questions I need answers to. I open my mouth, compelled.

"What the hell's going on here?"

Startled, I look at Zetsu, angrily confused on the other side of the room. Iruka gives him a slightly reprimanding look as well before sighing. "There's been a situation."

"No shit," he tells him sarcastically. "What kind of 'situation'?" The word is said with the difficulty of one who never uses it in their vocabulary, but it sums up (albeit crudely) all of our questions in one.

"Please watch your mouth," Iruka says steadily. "Sasuke has… managed to find a flaw in our safe-guarding."

_**-sXlXiXcXe-  
**__It's so damn beautiful…  
_SilverGLINTING SilverSLICING  
**.red.exes.and.o's.  
**Quicken the **_s e v e r_**

Even Zetsu, mind numbed by street slang knows that that means. As one, our eyes all widen. Dei's give me a nasty glare and my body suddenly feels hollowed.

_Quicken the p e r p e t u a l n i h i l i t y_

* * *

(dodges things) All right, I know this took forever! I meant to have it up before Boston, but that went down the drain… enjoy for now and my next goal is to have a chapter up on my birthday! …Even though you're not supposed to give things on your birthday. You'll all give me happy reviews, ne, ne? 


	10. Quicken the Insanity

Quicken

By: Junsui Kegasu

A/N: Thanks for 100+ reviews, guys!

Disclaimer: Own nothing… I don't think, anyhow.

* * *

I was wrong about Sasuke. I wish I could say that in a better light, but no, because I was wrong about only what _method_ he used to hurt himself with. When Iruka said, "found a flaw," he was understating massively. What Sasuke did showed them that you really can't completely safe-proof a shrink through peaceful, professional assistance. You can't take away a person's set of teeth. 

Just a few moments after the mayhem, Zetsu left with a shrug and an insincere, "I hope everything turns out okay," that seemed suited for the occasion. Sasuke's now in the ER section of this place, possibly with Neji, who we think has merely moved to a ward more suited for his "problem". Gaara's birthday is today, but it really couldn't have come with any worse timing. The tension is still in the air, but we try to overcome it anyways, for the sake of Gaara's happiness, as Bokaira told us moodily the other day he had never had a birthday party.

Of course, when I say "us", I still refer to both Dei and myself, but sometimes it sure seems like it's only Gaara and me. Dei won't talk to me. He won't _look_ at me, and I know that he's mad at me for hiding things. I know he's mad at me because it's my fault that Sasuke wasn't caught earlier, before anything like this could've happened, and I have to cope with that on my own. I tried the Scarlett O'Hara, "I'll think about it tomorrow," but unfortunately, "Tomorrow's only a day away."

We're all at the breakfast table now, and I can't help but notice how much space seems to be there with everyone gone. I can still remember when one half of the entire table would have been full if we had sat just next to each other. Normally, we sat so that we took up the whole table. But you really can't take up a whole table with three people. I've gotten as far away from Dei as I think I can without him suspecting cowardly behavior. He's sitting across from Gaa-chan, who's either unaware it's his birthday or just as blissfully innocent as usual.

It's a good thing I don't have _that_ much Irish in me, because envy sweeps through me right then and if I had anymore than my quarter of the blood, I'd be out jumping fences to try to win that innocence. Breakfast is served as waffles, soggy with the cheap, nasty kind of syrup, but Gaa-chan gobbles it down as if it were the most delicious of cuisines. I take a few bites to appease him, or rather so he won't ask questions as to why I'm not eating breakfast. Then Dei will turn to look at me, and I can't bear to see the ice in those eyes.

His eyes remind me of those liquid mints that come in the little balls. A little bit is refreshing, but don't eat the whole pack or you're sure to freeze over. And yet, just a few nights ago, they weren't cold. They were still that icy blue, but they still seemed so _warm,_ so _everything-will-be-okay-now._ Now they only soften when he looks at either Gaara or Gaa-chan – Gaara because the poor kid flinches back if his eyes are too cold and Gaa-chan because he's Gaa-chan.

We eat in silence, which is awkward to say the least. I've given Gaa-chan my birthday wishes – what's left to say? We don't get a cake with candles – _especially_ not with Dei in this ward. We might get cake later, but chances are that the cooks will ruin it. I wouldn't eat it, anyways, and that'd just be a waste of cake, then. I'm practically overjoyed at the sight of the lady who always comes in to clean up after we eat, but she never has much to do. None of us are (were) very messy eaters, and we are (were) the only group to eat in here at the times that we do. Nonetheless, her presence signifies that we should really get going to Circle, and so I scrape my plate in relief and go off at a quick pace.

It strikes even me as odd that I'm hurrying to Circle. It seems like a childish attempt to get away from Dei, and Iruka might notice the change in attitude (Iruka notices everything, everything, everything

_except for Sasuke._)

Right now, though, I kind of (and only kind of) don't care if Iruka notices a damn thing, because once again I am terrified of the atmosphere. The awkward silence, the unspoken words, and the angry negligence are ready to swallow me whole, and the farther I am from Dei, the easier it is to breathe. I haven't been sleeping much at all these last few days just because of that, and I really wish I could leave the room and at least just roam the halls. Thus, right now is possibly the easiest it's been to draw breath deep into my lungs as it has in hours, and I'm grateful, for once, for pure, sterilized air.

I slow my pace to a normal (or is it? or will he notice?) stride just before I reach the door to Circle, pulling it open with a sweaty palm and walking in without so much as a glance around to see if Iruka's here. I go to take my seat, and stop, because for the second time in the same number of months, somebody is sitting in my chair.

At first, I think it's a new person and almost scowl to take my seat elsewhere. Then I realize that this person can be, in no way, shape, or form under eighteen. Though his form is hunched over in the chair, the auburn hair is streaked with a few strands of gray. When he glances up, his face (familiar familiar! it's a small world after all) shows lines of age. Out of respect, I take my seat in the closest chair available, but apparently he notices my hesitation.

"Oh, is this your chair?" he asks humbly, standing up quickly and offering it. Shocked, I can only shake my head numbly. I'm about to speak, but then I notice out of the corner of my eye the brown bush that's Iruka's hair and freeze up.

_The Conspiracy - _it won't let me talk, now, even when I wanted to. Ironically, this is almost like something I read in a book, except that girl just couldn't speak in general where I've just fallen into the habit so much that my mind won't let me around Iruka.

The man, after a moment of hesitation and blinks, sits back down, folding his hands into his lap neatly. I'm just wondering where Dei and Gaara are when footsteps (probably Dei, my mind tells me meticulously, because Gaara often sounds like he doesn't even exist) start approaching. I divert my gaze to my lap, knowing with a sinking heart and a tightening chest that my moment of free air is done and the corset is back.

When they walk in, Gaara's kind of making conversation with Dei, but out of habit it stops once they reach the room. They both head over to the back corner, now at separate paces, without looking for a moment. Then it all happens at once.

First, Dei lifts his head and I can see a slight arch of his eyebrows in surprise of the newcomer. Giving him his space, he quickly but subtly redirects himself to the other corner and takes what used to be Sasuke's seat, plopping down casually. Gaara still hasn't looked up.

When he does, it's the more dramatic reaction of the two, which clears up any enigma to the man. He kind of looks at him, and then realizes who he's looking at, pausing completely and eyes widening to the size of huge, mint-green saucers. Gaara doesn't say anything, but he looks like he's trying to, if only he could find the words.

It's more than obvious, then, that this man has to be his father.

Dei's looking at Gaara with some form of concern at the change in behavior. It's hard for him to look, though, because Gaa-chan is on the other side of the room, more or less across from me. Even at my angle I can't tell exactly what's going on with him through his expression, because it's tilted to see his father's face. Iruka, though he's here, seems to not notice a thing and is instead bustling around the room for whatever reason. I don't know if he thinks he's giving Gaara space or not, but I don't think it's such a good thing.

Finally done with what looks like the dusting, Iruka comes over and sits in his chair in the center of the room. He clears his throat to get our attention; all three of us jump and the man just looks up. Iruka (unaware of the flinching) smiles and nods to the man in introduction.

"This is Mr. Sabaku – Gaara's dad – and as he's here for Gaara's birthday, we've decided they can have some one-on-one. Sasori and Deidara, you two will be escorted back to your room, but if you get bored, you are permitted to roam the halls."

I blink, definitely surprised. Naruto's birthday didn't go like this at all. Though, then again, Naruto didn't have anyone to visit him. Gaara has someone to visit him, but is it such a good idea? I'm almost afraid to leave him in a room with the same person that has him – especially this part of him – so jumpy about everything. Is Iruka stupid, one most wonder? And then, one must remember that Gaara's been raised to keep secrets. What we know he hasn't _directly_ told us, though with our knowledge of the world, it's obvious.

Even so, Dei and I shuffle out of the room, me uneasy and he too masked to tell. I don't know if I can stand being in the same room with Dei, but I can certainly try. I sneak glances at him as we walk down the hallway together. His hands are shoved deep into his pockets (which I didn't know they allowed, but whatever) and his gaze is seemingly firmly planted on the ground below us. He obviously likes this about as much as I do. I try to start conversation, but just like before, I freeze up.

Somehow, the room seems so far away as we walk. How long are these hallways, anyways? I don't even have the eye to get a good estimate anymore. Maybe at one point, all those months ago, I knew, but I can't remember too well anymore. Everything before here is kind of like a blurred memory – something you know exists for other people, but definitely not something that's ever going to go to you. And yet, I'm so close to entering that world again… but it will be different. I won't be a teenager to be taken care of and fed and sent to school every day. I'll be an adult who is supposed to be ready to get let out into this world. Am I ready? Sometimes I wonder.

For once, I wonder if my counselor would agree if I told her that for a seventeen year old to spend the months leading up to his eighteenth birthday in a baby-proofed madhouse doesn't prepare one to be let back out into the world as a "normal" citizen. Maybe she does agree, but she'll probably find an excuse to defend her support of this place. Haven't they realized that especially our ward hasn't been helped a single bit? We've dwindled – not because of people getting better as it was with one case, but because they've gotten worse and had to go. Naruto got let out, but all Naruto really needed was love, and Iruka gave him that. Zetsu shouldn't have been here in the first place.

Neji… I don't like thinking about it. He's got to be somewhere in here, because he's younger than me by quite a bit, but every single treatment they tried on him apparently failed. Would it not have been just as easy to let him into a ward of other drug addicts instead of a ward compromised of just an anorexic whose "problem" was as "severe" as his own? Am I supporting these places? I guess in a way, I am, but not this one. Not the one I'm in – never.

A noise from the world of the living jars me from my thoughts and I almost jump out of my skin. We're in front of a room – our room – and Dei is inside, clearing his throat to signal for me to go in. Feeling my face flush, I walk in, being sure to keep my gaze down to hide this fact. He won't ask what I was thinking about, I know. He would've asked just a few days ago, but he seems to have given up. I think then, I would've been grateful, but right now I wish he'd grab me by the shoulders and shake every thought out of me for his own sake. Or maybe it's for my own.

Once I'm inside, he closes the door, and it's very strange and very _new_ and changed to hear that the lock doesn't click automatically. A bit unnerved, I make my way to my bed and sit, placing my elbows on my knees and my face in my hands. Dei, thankfully, doesn't go anywhere near me but goes across the room to the wall to slide down against, knees to his chest and hands to his sides. We sit like this for quite some time – silence ringing, deafening, horrifying, drowning…

I need to get out of here. I'm nervous, tense, and the urge to run consumes me for the first time in months. Of course, I won't be able to run through the halls, but I can certainly walk… I'll take advantage of that new privilege. Standing up, but being careful not to knock my head on the bottom of the top bunk, I make my way to the door and pause. What if they lied? What if it's actually locked? What if I can't go out and walk?

Calm down, Sasori - twist the knob… yes, see? It moves... _but you never tried that before._ Shut up; shut up… keep twisting… Yes, yes, see? See, it's open. Pull open the door… pull it, come on! You can do it! Stop acting like Gaara and-

"'The hell are you doing, yeah?"

As if the doorknob was white-hot and smoking, I let go, startled. Dei just _spoke_ to me. But wait, nope. I'm not speaking back. _I'm going for a walk,_ I think in his direction and twist the knob with much more confidence, yanking open the heavy door and leaving, making sure it doesn't slam in case the unlocked door was a fluke and Iruka was lying. This is the closest thing to freedom since the fire alarm went off when Dei first got here…

In all honesty, I've never gotten to explore the halls. My personal parameters have been limited to the far end of the hallway, over by the door to the lobby and Circle, which is on the other side. But the hall turns, and I've never been down that way. There are openings all over the place that go to the cafeteria, but I ignore those. The cafeteria is not the place I'd want to be caught in right now.

I make it to Circle and look down the hallway cautiously. It looks exactly the same, especially since it turns again. I bet the whole thing is a square – good. I can pace, and so I do, nervously down the other three hallways because I'm sure they house other wards. This place is pretty big, though, so I bet that the lobby leads to other rooms like this with other cafeterias. Nonetheless the whole thing is still very monotonous, as usual.

Nothing happens for a few laps. I wasn't expecting anything to really happen at all. On my fifth lap around the square, I stop in front of the door to the Circle room. I don't know why, but I do. I stop there and press my ear against the heavy oak, pretty much eavesdropping, though it's pointless. You can't really hear anything unless it's screamed. All I'm getting is a buzz of a deep voice and a higher buzz, much weaker, which is probably Gaara.

Even though I can't hear anything, I still listen, and it's kind of relaxing, the buzzing noise. _No one's watching,_ I manage to tell myself, completely forgetting about the cameras. No one cares, either. They said I could do this, and so I am.

"YOU FUCKING_ WHORE! _I'LL KILL YOU!"

I jump away from the door, but there's no difference because that was _loud_ and I bet Dei could hear it in the room. After the scream comes the definite noise of things being thrown – probably chairs – and even a startled, pained yelp which is probably Gaara. I'm backing away to go and get Dei because Dei can help, I think, when the door bursts open. All the noise gets louder before someone small darts out of the room, slamming the door shut and sprinting down the hall.

"Gaara!" My voice actually surprises me with its volume since I haven't managed to say a word today and I run after him, easily catching up with him. "Gaara, what happened? Stop!" I grab onto the sleeve of his shirt, for once glad that he weighs even less than I do so I can pull him closer.

"G-get _off _of me!" he yelps, obviously panicked. "G-GET OFF!"

"Shit, kid…" I mumble, dragging him into the bedroom, quite literally kicking and screaming. "Gaara! Stop it! _Calm down!_"

"Get _off!_" he repeats, finally yanking away from my grip with a ripping noise. A few of the seams in his shirt are torn, but it's completely irrelevant to what's going on right now. Before I can grab him again, he makes a dive for his bed, reaching over the side of it to grasp the CD player in violently-shaking hands. I stop, not because I know the CD player will calm him down, but because there are footsteps nearing.

I hope with everything that the steps don't belong to the freak that's this kid's father, but peak out the door anyways. No – safe; it's Iruka and Kakashi, both with startled looks on their faces. Before they can make it to the door and question anything, Gaara emits a scream so loud I almost thought it was his dad again.

"NO!" he screeches, hitting the CD player with his palm. "Not now! C-come on!" He violently presses the "play" button in and yells at it again, bashing it with a fist. The player pops open from the impact, showing a Linkin Park CD before he closes it again, jamming the play button for the third time.

"I need it – I need it… need it… c-come on… come _on!_" he's muttering, voice changing from a panicked whimper to an angry yelp and then somewhere in between. I can't tell who this is – it seemed to just go from Gaa-chan to Shukaku to Bokaira all in one go. When the CD player doesn't abide by him again, he whacks it hard with his palm. The player falls out and drops to the floor – not very far, but far enough to make the face fall off, the CD falling out and rolling around the floor.

"Gaara!" Iruka says sternly from the door. "Gaara, are you all right?"

It's too late, though. The kid won't talk. Dei is watching this whole thing from across the room, eyes wide and shocked, following the disc. I'm mad at him for not doing anything to help, but I dismiss it for now, reaching forward and attempting to hug Gaara to my chest. He's freaking out, kicking and screaming and I really doubt he's going to remember any of this in the morning or whenever he wakes up after getting tranquilized.

"L-LET ME GO!" he yells, reaching around and hitting me.

"Sasori, just hold him down," Iruka says evenly. Kakashi's gone – I don't know where. "Don't let him get away."

Of course, this seems easy until the little kid _bites_ me – and I think he broke the skin. I bite back a yelp and just hold him tighter. I'm kind of surprised, as I'm doing this, at how easily I can feel his ribs – not as easily as you can mine but easier than I had ever expected. When I do this, he just yelps and twists a bit harder. I really hope I didn't hit an injury or something.

Just when it's getting really hard to keep holding on, Kakashi comes back in with a huge needle in his hand. "Sasori, hold him still…" he says, crouching down next to us. As soon as Gaara sees the needle, he screams, flailing limbs and trying even harder to get away from me.

"NO! STOP!"

Shukaku's out, I do believe, but that's okay because I just squeeze him around the middle a little tighter and Kakashi grabs his arm, giving him the shot in the elbow. I have to look away because I _hate_ shots, but it takes its effect almost immediately. As soon as the needle is in his skin, some part of Gaara realizes that he's lost and he calms down, probably from shock, and after the injection, it doesn't take long before he's completely limp and I can loosen my arms from around his ribs, shifting him into a more comfortable position.

I'm breathing heavily and Iruka wipes his brow in relief. Kakashi takes the needle away and tucks it into a bag, then leans over and picks up the pieces of the broken CD player, sticking them into another, larger bag. The CD is still on the floor where it had fell art-side down. The shine is reflected as a bright patch on the ceiling, spreading through about half the room. Once Kakashi is done and is sure that no harmful pieces are still there, he stands up, brushing off his pants.

The question is on both Dei's and my lips, but before I can muster up the courage to vocalize it, he does it for me.

"Iruka, what just went on?"

Gaara's dad had seemed almost civil when _we_ had seen him – I think for a second I had even considered the idea that Gaara was okay with him and that maybe the abuser was his mother, so what had happened? What had changed while no one was looking? We weren't in the room, nor were Iruka or Kakashi. It was just Gaara, now too incoherent to say, and his dad, wherever he had gone.

"We're still running some tests, but it looks like Gaara's father is drastically bipolar – one of the worst cases I have ever seen."

_Hello, there. How're you?  
_**I'm the voice inside your head.  
**_I want to kill you.  
_Just **come** with me…it's a **fun** ride.  
Qu**i_c_**_ke_n the i**n**_s_a**_n_i**_t_y

* * *

Kill me and you won't get another update! For the record, I really don't like Gaara's little free verse… what about you guys? I really want criticism on that… see if I can get another idea for the thing. 


	11. Quicken the Regret

Dear beloved readers,

As much as I truly hate to do this, I am greatly diminished to inform you that any inspiration for this piece of writing has left me entirely. As hard as I might try, I cannot find it within me to continue this, though it only has a chapter or three left. I could make a pathetic attempt at forcing the words from my fingers, but I would be far too disappointed with the lack of quality to actually post it, and thus it would get both you and I nowhere. So I have resolved to merely stop writing it, though it goes against my personal code of morals and I know that you all will be sorely disappointed. However, if you really wish, this does not have to be the end: go forth and write what you think happens next yourself. Just send me the chapter through an e-mail to junsuikegasu(at)sbcglobal(dot)net and I would be cheerful to post it, giving all credit, of course, and forwarding all reviews to your e-mail. Once again, I really wish it did not have to come to this.

Regretfully,

Junsui Kegasu


End file.
